


Shatter Like Glass, Come Apart In My Hands

by destielsdessert



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Isaac, Alpha Derek, Angst, Angst and Feels, Comfort, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Derek is a Softie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Feelings, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Isaac is amazing, Kind of AU, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic, Panic Attacks, Protective Derek, Protective Scott, Protectiveness, Romance, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scott is a Good Friend, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Trauma, True Alpha Scott McCall, Well - Freeform, italics abuse, its all just a bit messed up because i like it that way, like seriously, not really - Freeform, once he becomes a boyfriend, someone needs to hug this lil guy, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:05:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsdessert/pseuds/destielsdessert
Summary: The one in which Stiles goes missing for three months and then suddenly, out of nowhere, he turns up at the door of the Hale House, confusing himself, Derek, and literally everyone else.Oh, yeah, and he has no memory of what happened to him (or, at least, no conscious memory).





	1. My Mind is Set on Overdrive

**Author's Note:**

> So, just a warning: This is my first Sterek story.
> 
> It's also a bit of a mess. It's mostly set between seasons two and three, but Parrish is here and we know he's a hellhound, and Derek's living in the loft. Also, Derek is an alpha, but Scott's a True Alpha, so they're both, like, the ones that everyone goes to for guidance and stuff. Also, Malia is here but she was never with Stiles. Basically, it's just all my favourite characters set in my favourite season so I can satisfy my needs.
> 
> Hope that's not too confusing! Otherwise, please enjoy it :3
> 
> P.S. I have a habit of abusing italics, as well as commas, so sorry in advance!
> 
> P.P.S. This is also my first ever time writing in the present tense, so I apologise if I mess up the tenses at any point.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles doesn't know where his legs are carrying him, or why he's running so fast in the first place, but he doesn't stop to question it. There's probably a reason that his clothes are bloodied, that his heart is hammering inside his chest, that his hands are shaking uncontrollably and that he's in the middle of the god damn forest with no idea where he is or why he's there but, right now, all he can do is run.
> 
> From what, he doesn't know.

Stiles doesn't know where his legs are carrying him, or why he's running so fast in the first place, but he doesn't stop to question it. There's probably a reason that his clothes are bloodied, that his heart is hammering inside his chest, that his hands are shaking uncontrollably and that he's in the middle of the  _god damn_ forest with no idea where he is or why he's there but, right now, all he can do is run.

From what, he doesn't know.

He isn't sure how long he's running for but, even though his legs are burning, he doesn't dare stop or even slow down (and he still doesn't know where he's going). He just keeps running, no hesitation, until all of a sudden he's in a clearing, a half-destroyed house looming over him.

_Derek's house._

Stiles has no idea why he's here, of all places, because he could easily find his way home now, or at least to Scott. For some reason, though, he'd subconsciously travelled _here_ , and he can't find it in him to complain. So he continues up to the front door, and he goes to knock but apparently the whole running ordeal catches up with him all at once and he falls to his knees, gasping for air and Stiles isn't sure if this is just because he's out of breath or if he's having a full-blown panic attack. He doesn't have much time to contemplate his options, however, as the door -  which he'd just been leaning on - opens suddenly and he thinks he hears someone ask, " _Stiles?!_ " but every sound around him is echoing in his mind so he can't be sure. He's more focused on trying to breathe, anyways, because his head is filled with the constant _thumpthumpthump_ of his heart, pulsing  _so hard_ and _so fast_ that Stiles is struggling to distinguish between each different beat. He knows that, if this is Derek, then Derek can hear it, too, and vaguely wonders if Derek knows what's going on.

Stiles lets out what might be a strangled cry, and then all of a sudden he's engulfed in warmth and he realises that he can't move. He's _trapped_ , and he tries to push whatever's trapping him away but it just holds him tighter and Stiles hears someone whisper, "Sssh." That works, and makes Stiles remind himself that this is _Derek_ and Derek means that he's _safe_ , and he lets himself calm down, stops pushing and shoving at Derek and he just melts into the embrace.

There's silence as Stiles's breathing slowly evens out, and he can feel Derek combing his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, and his other hand is rubbing circles on Stiles's back. Stiles is still confused about why he'd unknowingly and unintentionally run to Derek's and not home but, right now, he feels so safe and calm that he doesn't care and he's not going to complain.

He's pretty much as calm as he's going to get by this point, and he's sure that Derek knows that, but Stiles doesn't want to move yet. He's scared, terrified even, and he still doesn't know what of, but Derek's making him feel so safe and he doesn't want to lose that, not yet. So he curls up as small as he can into Derek's arms, his eyes squeezed shut and he inhales Derek's scent. It's weird, he feels like he hasn't smelled this in forever, and it fills him with this sense of security that he's not sure he's ever felt anywhere else.

Derek finally stops moving his fingers through Stiles's hair and his hand across Stiles's back, and Stiles lets out a whimper before he can stop himself (god, that's embarrassing). Derek mumbles something but it's muffled so Stiles doesn't really hear him, but he thinks he's figured it out when suddenly he's moving. His eyes stay closed, but he feels weightless and that sensation of safety hasn't left him, so he he decides that Derek must be carrying him inside. Derek seems to carry him into what used to be the Hale's living room, and he sits them down on a sofa, Stiles's legs draped across Derek's lap as he instinctively cuddles into Derek's chest.

"Stiles," Derek says, voice a soft growl in Stiles's ear. He's loud enough for Stiles to actually be able to hear him this time. Stiles lets out a disgruntled noise, unable to find his voice, and he wonders if that's because of the minute fear still radiating through him. He pushes that thought away and reminds himself that, if he was scared, he wouldn't currently be curled up against Derek Hale's chest.

Derek Hale: Resident Sourwolf. _Seriously, what is Stiles doing?_

Maybe he's just not sure what to say. "We need to talk." Stiles squeezes his eyes shut even tighter because under _no_ circumstances does the phrase 'we need to talk' ever foreshadow anything good, and he prays that his silence will be enough for Derek to realise that he doesn't _want_ to talk. He's out of luck, though, because Derek manoeuvres Stiles so that they're facing each other (or at least they would be if Stiles could find the courage to _open his damn eyes_ ). 

Derek settles his hand beneath Stiles's chin and uses it to lift the boy's head up so that he has the ability to see Stiles's entire face. Stiles can feel his heart hammering in his chest even though he's not even _looking_ at Derek. He doesn't know what Derek wants to talk about, but what if he asks why Stiles is here? What if he asks why Stiles had come to him, to his _door_ and not gone home?

Stiles himself doesn't even know the answer.

"Look at me," Derek tells him and his voice is so soft and quiet that it almost doesn't seem like _Derek Hale_. He sounds so demanding but gentle and that's just not like Derek - normally Derek's yelling at him and telling him to _Shut up, Stiles_. Stiles shakes his head, and he thinks he's scared but he still doesn't know why. He's got no answers to any of the questions in his head: why is he here?; why is he scared but also why isn't he scared because _Derek_?; and, also, why the _hell_ is Derek Hale acting so _tender?!_

He can feel tears stinging his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall because he has nothing to cry about. "Open your eyes, Stiles." A hand cups one of his cheeks and it surprises Stiles, but he doesn't flinch and that confuses him because he's mostly calm but his hands are trembling and his heart is still beating a little fast and he'd put that down to fear.

But he isn't scared of Derek. He knows that.

A thumb strokes his cheek, prompting Stiles to _finally_ open his eyes. For the first time tonight, Stiles sees Derek (except he doesn't _really_ see him because it's almost pitch black and Stiles can barely see a thing). But he can see enough and it's like he's suddenly put under a spell or something because his hands stop shaking and his heart slows right down. He's still scared but he doesn't think he even cares.

"There you go," Derek praises, sounding genuinely proud ( _what?!_ ), and Stiles is sure that he can see him smile. The thumb brushes against his cheek again, and Stiles involuntarily pushes back against the hand, seeking more of that physical comfort because that feels nice and it's soothing and he wants _more_. But Derek pulls his hand away and Stiles actually _whines_ , and it takes everything in him not to just grab the hand and put it back against his cheek (maybe he should be questioning _why_ he likes it so much but, right now, he's got more important things to think about).

"Stiles, where have you been?"

Derek stares at him curiously, but Stiles doesn't know what to say. It's strange, even for him, but the first thing he remembers about tonight is that he's running in the woods, with no idea of where he is or where he's going, and then he just turns up here. How can he explain that to Derek? He'll just call Stiles crazy (Stiles is beginning to think that himself), and he'll make him leave and tell him to come back when he's ready to take this seriously and tell the truth.

So he shrugs because there's no other reply, and waits for Derek to tell him to _get out_. But Derek is silent and Stiles sees that Derek's waiting for him to actually _say_ something. "I don't know," he whispers, and he actually winces because his voice sounds and feels like he's been screaming non-stop for days - it's raspy and croaky and it actually hurts to talk - and that makes no sense because he hasn't done any strenuous yelling these past few days. He's so quiet that if it wasn't for Derek's wolf-hearing, Stiles knows that he wouldn't have heard him. "I don't remember. I was just..." He trails off as that fear fills him again when he remembers how fast he'd been running and that he doesn't know what he'd been running from. He gulps, a lump forming in his throat and he sneaks a glance at Derek, expecting him to look unimpressed but he seems curious, like he wants to know more, so Stiles carries on, "I went to sleep in my bed, and then I'm in the woods, and I'm running. That's it."

Derek stays silent, and Stiles wonders if he's listening to check if Stiles is lying. Stiles has said everything he possible can about where he's been tonight, so he can only sit quietly until Derek decides on what to say.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity to Stiles, Derek speaks. "Stiles, you've been missing for three months."

Stiles was expecting something a bit more along the lines of _you're actually going insane, aren't you?_ so that doesn't register for a moment but, when it does, well, _that's_ when everything goes to hell. His eyes snap wide open - he's not sure when he even closed them - and he stares at Derek like he's gone _insane_ because there's _no way_ that he's been gone for _three months_. "You're lying," he accuses, ignoring the flash of hurt in Derek's eyes that he quickly tries to hide, but his voice breaks because part of him believes that Derek isn't lying (why would he lie?). Despite that part of him, Stiles is shaking his head because this _isn't possible_ , he can remember the pack meeting last Friday (or was it the week before last? - he's not sure), he swears he can, and there is just no way that Derek _can't_ be lying. If Derek's telling the truth, then...

Stiles's blood runs cold.

If Derek's telling the truth (which he definitely can't be), then Stiles has lost the last three months of his memory. He has no idea where he's been, what happened to him or why he's even been gone. He's been missing for three months and he can't remember a single moment of it. How can that be possible?

Stiles decides it isn't, and Derek is lying.

He has to be, because this just doesn't add up in his head, it doesn't make sense, and it's when he realises that that the panic really begins to settle in. How can he _not_ remember? He's racking his brain for something, _anything_ that could've happened within those supposed three months but he can't find anything and he can feel his heart rate picking up and with seconds (or is it minutes?) it's hammering inside his chest. He's _just_ had a panic attack, is it even possible to have another one this soon after?

"Stiles-"

" _No!_ " Stiles is shaking his head again because he _cannot_ believe Derek. His entire body is telling him that he doesn't _want_ to believe Derek, that he shouldn't believe him. "You're lying, you _have_ to be lying!"

Stiles is standing up now, stepping away from Derek and the couch. His heart is racing, laboured breaths catching in his throat and he's not sure, but he thinks he's crying. He's insisting that Derek is lying, but his words come out as incoherent mumbles amongst his sobs and, okay, yeah, he's crying.

God, he's being such a child. He's crying when, really, he should be trying to figure this all out. Or, more importantly, he should be wondering what his dad has been doing, or _why the hell hasn't he gone home yet?_

The thought of going home is what makes Stiles snap. He can't explain why, but as soon as he thinks of having to go home, he can't breathe and it makes him realise that he doesn't think he actually _wants_ to go home. There's a sharp pain in his head, and he realises that his hands are tugging and yanking at his hair and he _still can't breathe._

Someone's asking his name over and over, but it's making his head hurt. Everything is spinning and he's pretty sure that he's mere moments from passing out. He's calling for Derek to _please, please help_ (at least he thinks he is but he can't really hear if his words are coherent) and then there are hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He tries to focus on that, to ground himself on Derek's hands but he _can't_ and he tries to tell Derek that but all he can do is cry. He's pulled up against something and his first instinct is to struggle, to get out and to escape, but he fights against that and lets Derek do what he needs to with the sole hope that it'll help. He tries to listen, to calm himself down enough for all of the sounds around him to start making sense, and he manages to tune in on this slow, constant thudding.

_Derek's heartbeat._

Stiles listens as closely as he can, and he thinks he can vaguely hear Derek telling him to _try make your heartbeat match mine_ , so he does. He focuses on the sound of the heartbeat and that sound alone and tries to take a deep breath. It's a sound of drums in his ears, a constant rhythm and it's exactly what he needs to get himself breathing again. He's mumbling words against Derek's chest, helplessly still insisting that Derek is lying, but most of them are muffled and Derek doesn't seem to be listening anyways. He's beginning to breathe normally again, and that's when the tears take over. He fists his hands in Derek's shirt and cries, despite how much he tries not to because this is so damn embarrassing. He's not even been here an hour and he's had two panic attacks, shown his most vulnerable side to Derek _twice_ and he won't be surprised if Derek wants nothing more to do with him after this.

Which is why he's amazed when, instead of pulling away, Derek's arms wrap around Stiles completely and Derek moves them so they're back on the sofa. Stiles curls back up into Derek's side, crying and sniffling and he doesn't think he's ever been this physically close to someone. Derek's _taking care_ of him and, though Stiles has always known Derek to have a soft side, he never would have expected anything like this, especially for _him_.

So then why did he come here in the first place?

Stiles raises his head a little and nuzzles his nose into the crook of Derek's neck, silently praying that Derek doesn't pull away because Stiles has never felt more safe and protected in his life. Stiles is sure he hears Derek's breath hitch in his throat and, to his surprise, Derek doesn't move away and Stiles might honestly be kidding himself, but he can feel Derek rest his head on top of his own.

They're like that for a while, the only sound being Stiles's slightly laboured breathing. Derek seems to think that Stiles is calm enough again that he can give him a little more space and he goes to unwrap his arms a little from Stiles's body. But the second his arms move even slightly, Stiles's heart rate picks up so Derek just pulls him closer, if possible.

The silence stays a little longer, and Derek's resorted to rubbing his hand up and down Stiles's arm to keep him calm because he doesn't think he can handle seeing Stiles in another panic attack. It's heart-wrenching seeing him like that.

"'M sorry," Stiles mumbles eventually, voice slightly muffled by Derek's neck but he knows Derek's heard him when his hand stops moving along Stiles's arm. Still, a part of Stiles fears that Derek's going to just laugh and make him leave but he pushes that thought as far away as he can; they have more important things to talk about.

"What for?" Derek asks. He sounds like he already knows the answer.

"Freaking out," Stiles attempts at explaining. He feels Derek sigh, and he wonders if Derek's mad or if it's just simply his way of responding without words (classic Derek-style). "You shouldn't have to deal with that."

Derek sighs again, and this time it does sound slightly angry, but not at Stiles, and he says, "Don't be stupid, it wasn't your fault."

Stiles wants to argue because, _yeah_ , it _was_ his fault. He'd reacted so badly and he should have just listened to Derek. But he doesn't argue and instead stays silent because the panic attacks are catching up with him and he's filling with exhaustion. He wants to just close his eyes, to sleep and forget about everything for a while but he still has so many questions and things he needs to figure out.

"We'll need to go soon," Derek tells him and Stiles's tired state renders himself confused.

"Where?" he grumbles, nuzzling closer to Derek to emphasise that he's comfortable where he is. He doesn't want to move, to go _anywhere_ but he has a feeling that the slight urgency in Derek's voice means that eventually he won't have a choice.

"The sheriff's station," Derek continues, and Stiles's heart drops. That means seeing his dad, seeing _Scott_ and everybody else and that fills with absolute dread. It scares him and that doesn't make sense because that's his dad and his best friend and they shouldn't scare him yet here he is with the one only _Derek Hale_ , feeling the safest he ever has. He feels safer around Derek (probably one of the scariest people Stiles knows) than he does around his friends and family and that shouldn't make sense, not really, but right now it makes so much sense even though he can't explain it.

"Why?" he manages to get out despite the mess his head is in and he waits for Derek to call him stupid because it's obvious _why_. And Stiles thinks he knows why but he waits for Derek to explain it anyways because his head is in shambles and Derek's words will make sense amongst the disarray of thoughts in his head.

"Because everyone's been worried about you," Derek says, and part of Stiles wonders if _everyone_ extends to Derek even though the rational part of him tells him that that shouldn't matter, but it does. "They'll all want to see you, Stiles, and there'll be lots of questions about where you've been and what happened." Stiles figures that his heart-rate begins to rise because Derek's quick to try and calm him by adding, "You don't have to say anything you don't want to." Stiles is grateful for that and he nods, but he knows that he _will_ have to talk, even if he doesn't have anything to say that would help. They'll ask him so many questions and he'll look so stupid because he won't have the answers that they'll want and _god_ his dad is going to be so damn worried. "Do you want a change of clothes?" Derek asks, which brings Stiles's attention back to the clothes he's currently wearing. When he'd been running, he'd noticed that his clothes are covered in blood and he'd never questioned _whose_ blood it was. What if he'd hurt someone, or if he'd... _killed_ someone? Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about that, and just hopes - call him weird - that the blood is his own (though he can't feel any pain anywhere so he can't be sure where it could be from). "My clothes will probably be a bit big on you, but they'll be comfortable."

Stiles hums in agreement, filled with a sudden need to be out of his own clothes. So he clambers off of Derek so that Derek can leave, though Derek seems hesitant to go anywhere and Stiles realises that he clearly doesn't want to leave him alone. "You can go, you know. I can handle being on my own for two minutes." His tone is more aggressive than he intends and he almost feels guilty because Derek is only trying to help, but it doesn't matter because it works and Derek goes (though Stiles kind of wishes that it _hadn't_ worked because now he's alone, in the dark, and that kind of freaks him out a little more than it used to).

Derek's back quicker than Stiles expects him to be, and Stiles wonders if he'd gone as fast as he could so that Stiles spent less time alone, and Stiles isn't complaining. He hands Stiles the clothes he picked out and Stiles realises that when Derek had said _comfortable_ , he'd meant it because these are the softest clothes he's ever felt. Derek leaves the room again to give Stiles time to get changed and Stiles gets right to it so that he doesn't have to be alone for long.

He pulls off his t-shirt - which, he now realises, is quite destroyed and covered in rips and tears - and figures that the blood might actually be _his_ because, when he looks down at his torso, he notices that he's covered cuts and gashes and bruises (he wonders if there are any broken bones among those wounds). It's weird because he doesn't actually feel any _pain_ but he doesn't want to question it because he's not sure he actually _wants_ to feel the pain that he probably should.

He tries to stop thinking about it because he's taking too long as it is and he doesn't want to waste any more of Derek's time (not that Derek's complained in any way, yet). So he pulls on the clean clothes and he doesn't care that they're slightly too big because _oh god_ they're so soft and warm and he's got _sweater paws_ (something that Stiles has a major soft spot for) and he pulls the sleeves of the hoodie over his hands completely (and maybe the fact that the clothes smell of Derek fills him with warmth and safety and that makes them that much better).

He bundles up his dirty clothes and moves through to where Derek is waiting in the hallway. Derek's holding a bag that he gives to Stiles, saying, "You'll need to put your clothes in here. They'll need to use them for forensics, especially considering there's not much that you can tell them." Stiles nods and avoids eye contact, filling with a sudden sense of guilt. He's been gone for three months and he can't tell anybody why - he can't explain to his _dad_ why his son has been missing for months and that just makes him feel like crap, like a failure. "It'll be okay, Stiles," Derek promises, and Derek's hand on Stiles's shoulder is what makes it that much more reassuring that Stiles finds himself almost believing him. "Come on."

Derek begins to make his way out of the house and towards his car, seemingly making sure that Stiles is _right_ behind him at all times (Stiles likes to think that that's because Derek cares and wants to protect him, but he's probably just kidding himself). Derek opens the passenger side door to let Stiles climb inside, and then gets into the driver's side. They sit for a moment, once again engulfed in silence, as Derek lets Stiles get comfortable before asking, "Are you ready to go?"

Stiles hesitates. He has a feeling that, if he says he's not ready, Derek will be willing to wait until he is and that's tempting, but he nods because he knows he'll end up with no choice. He'll have to do it sooner or later and he'd rather just get it out of the way. He hugs the bag close to his chest as Derek begins to drive, and he leans his head on the window. As they're driving, Stiles feels like he hasn't seen these streets in forever, despite growing up around them, and that makes him feel uneasy. It's _weird_ , and he hates is. He can feel Derek stare at him every so often and he feels like he should make some snarky comment about watching the road but he can't find it in him, and that should worry him but he doesn't even think about that. He's tired and confused and just wants to forget about all of this for a while (quite ironic, really).

He doesn't even notice that they've arrived at first, too lost in thought, until Derek turns off the engine and everything goes quiet.

Stiles looks over at Derek and actually sees him for the first time tonight. There's street lights now which means that everything isn't pitch black any more, and now Derek is completely visible to him instead of looking like a shadow in the dark. And, _god_ , even if he doesn't remember being gone, he knows for sure that he's missed Derek. Derek sends him an encouraging smile, and he seems like he's once again okay to wait until Stiles thinks he's ready to go inside, and Stiles is grateful. He needs a couple more minutes.

"You okay?" Derek asks. Stiles nods, even though he's sure that they both know he's lying, but he just doesn't know what else to say. How can he explain that he doesn't think he wants to see his dad or Scott or _anybody_ that isn't Derek, and that he _definitely_ doesn't want to go home? He sighs to himself - he is _so damn_ messed up.

"Is my dad inside?" Stiles hopes that this question isn't too suspicious and that Derek doesn't question him, that he just answers and lets it go.

Derek narrows his eyes and looks a little unsure but doesn't act on it. "I don't think so. I think it's just a couple of deputies."

Stiles tries to hide his sigh of relief. At least he won't be bombarded as soon as he steps inside, and he can have a little more time to prepare himself. "Are you coming in, too?" Stiles attempts to convince himself that he doesn't care what Derek says, but he knows that he does want Derek to come inside with him (and he's definitely not sure that, if Derek doesn't come in with him, he's going to have a complete mental breakdown).

"Of course, Stiles," Derek says as if it's the most obvious thing. "I'll be here as long as you need me." Stiles can feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks, despite his efforts to stop it, and his heart flutters in his chest.

It's enough to make Stiles realise that there's no point in putting this off. It's time to go in, he can't avoid this any longer, so he sends Derek a grateful smile and nods, signalling that he's ready. It's now or never.


	2. Like A Stunned Fox - With Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parrish's face is one of shock and confusion, and he's in front of the two within seconds. "Stiles?!" he near yells, the exact same as Derek had, and he looks like he's seen a ghost (which probably makes sense considering that, by this point, Stiles would probably have been presumed dead and, instead of looking for where he could be hiding, they'd be looking for his body. His dad's been looking for his dead body. Stiles's stomach flips). All of the other deputies look up at the sound of his name, equally shocked looks displayed on their faces. Stiles tries to smile but he can't because all of the attention is on him right now and it's making him anxious.

Derek exits the car first, Stiles quickly clambering out after him. He stops to stare at the doors to the station, gulping because now there's _definitely_ no going back. He'll be stuck in there for hours, being asked questions that he can't answer and _then_ he'll have to go home and that thought still fills him with dread.

Derek's suddenly standing behind him, a hand on Stiles's shoulder that's like a silent promise that it's okay and Stiles takes a deep breath, bracing himself before beginning to walk. The bright lights of the station hurt his eyes but he's too distracted by the thought of seeing his dad to care. There's nobody at the front desk, so they continue in the direction of his dad's office until they're surrounded by the deputies, all at their respective desks.

It's quiet, save for the sound of fingers typing on keyboards, and that makes Stiles's nerves skyrocket. They stand for a moment, and then someone notices them and _oh god it's Parrish_. Stiles's breath catches in his throat - he'd completely forgotten that Parrish works here and now that's completely ruined his plan to get comfortable in his dad's office and just stay calm until his dad inevitably arrives.

Parrish's face is one of shock and confusion, and he's in front of the two within seconds. "Stiles?!" he near yells, the exact same as Derek had, and he looks like he's seen a ghost (which probably makes sense considering that, by this point, Stiles would probably have been presumed dead and, instead of looking for where he could be hiding, they'd be looking for his body. _His dad's been looking for his dead body_. Stiles's stomach flips). All of the other deputies look up at the sound of his name, equally shocked looks displayed on their faces. Stiles tries to smile but he can't because all of the attention is on him right now and it's making him anxious.

Parrish takes a step closer to him (Stiles isn't sure why, maybe for a hug or for assurance that Stiles is actually real and not just an illusion) but Stiles flinches away, immediately stepping back, his back pressing against Derek's chest. Derek's grip on Stiles's shoulder tightens, and Stiles vaguely wonders why - is he angry?; protective?; or was it just instinct? Parrish looks guilty now, stepping away from Stiles to give him more space. "Sorry, Stiles, just... _Wow_." He grins widely at Stiles, bewildered, then at Derek, and then says, "C'mon, come through to your dad's office."

Stiles glances at Derek, and he thinks he's looking for some form of reassurance (but he won't say that out loud) and he receives it in the form of a small, firm nod, so he and Derek follow Parrish into the sheriff's office. They sit on the sofa, Derek finally removing his hand from Stiles's shoulder and Stiles pulls his knees to his chest, curling up slightly. It's weird being in here when _he's_ the 'victim' rather than trying to figure out someone else's case.

"I'm gonna call your dad, okay? Let him know you're alright. He's been going out of his mind with worry, Stiles, you have no idea." Stiles wants to argue, to say that he doesn't _want_ his dad here, but that won't make sense to anyone (considering it doesn't make sense to Stiles despite how much he thinks about it and tries to figure it out).

"Wait," he says before he can stop himself. Parrish, who had been moving to leave, stops and turns to look at Stiles, face etched with confusion. Stiles quickly tries to figure out how to ask this without it seeming obvious that he really doesn't want to talk to his dad. "He's not allowed to interview me, is he?"

Parrish looks guilty again as he shakes his head (Stiles's acting must be better than he'd thought because Parrish seems to think that he _wants_ his dad to interview him which, obviously, isn't the case) and Stiles decides that he's been convincing enough for Parrish but probably not for Derek because Derek had tensed up when he'd asked the question. Stiles begins to wonder if Derek knows everything that Stiles is thinking and feeling because he's been doing really well at looking after him all night, knowing exactly what to do and how to act. "Sorry, Stiles, you know he's not. You're family, so he's considered too close, even if he _is_ the sheriff. Being the sheriff is the only reason he was allowed to help with the investigation in the first place." Stiles nods, and he can feel Derek burning holes into the side of his head with his eyes. He should turn and make some sarcastic comment but he's tired and just doesn't feel up to it - which should probably worry him but, honestly, right now, he doesn't care. "If you want, I can make it so that I conduct the interview. Would that be okay?" Well, _that_ makes Stiles feel just a little bit better. At least now it'll be someone he can trust but he's not too close to, but also someone who won't judge him or think of him as stupid when he says he hasn't a clue what happened, that he can't remember a damn thing. Parrish will actually listen, and won't straight up accuse him of lying. So he nods again, managing a small smile which seems to be enough for Parrish who grins and then leaves to call the sheriff.

Once Parrish is gone, Stiles expects Derek to question that entire conversation but the werewolf is silent - which Stiles should honestly expect because this is _Derek_ \- still just staring at Stiles with narrowed eyes. A blush creeps up onto Stiles' cheeks at the attention - it feels like Derek is trying to study him, trying to figure out exactly what is going on inside of Stiles's head.

Derek stops, _finally_ , and stands up and Stiles is immediately aware of the lack of warmth next to him. It makes him cuddle more into the hoodie as a form of comfort.

"I'm gonna call Scott," Derek says, but Stiles is leaping forward before he can go anywhere, clutching Derek's sleeve to stop him from moving (although he knows that Derek could break his hand in a second if he wanted to).

"Don't," Stiles says, earning himself a confused eyebrow-raise from Derek. "My dad'll call him, it's fine." His argument is weak (and, honestly, he's hoping that his dad will leave Scott be until morning and Scott never actually turns up), they both know it, but Derek seems to decide that there must be a good enough reason for Stiles not wanting him to call Scott, so he sighs and sits back down. Stiles desperately wants to cuddle back up into Derek's side, but they're in _public_ so Derek probably wouldn't appreciate it. He instead resorts to pulling the jumper's hood over his head and curling in on himself a little and he can feel Derek inch just slightly closer but there's no _physical contact_ and it makes Stiles much more upset than it probably should.

Parrish returns then, breaking the silence and he immediately says, "Your dad's on his way. He said he'll call Scott because Scott'll probably get here sooner and he doesn't want you to be alone." _I'm not alone,_ Stile wants to say, referring to Derek but he stays quiet because this is exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. It's bad enough that his dad is going to be here soon but he thought that he'd avoided having to see Scott for at least a few more hours.

Apparently not.

But Stiles can't complain because that'd just draw a lot of unwanted attention towards him so he just tries to mentally prepare himself. Oh, _god_ , they'll want to hug him and that makes Stiles's heart leap at just the thought and when he imagines Scott pulling him into a bone-crushing hug his skin crawls and he feels _physically sick_. It makes him feel wrong and he glances at Derek just to make sure that the person sitting next to him _is_ Derek Hale and it is and Stiles gulps because he's craving physical contact with _Derek Hale_ but the thought of even brushing shoulders with his best friend actually _repulses_ him.

He doesn't realise that Parrish is actually saying something until Derek taps him on the back to gain his attention. Stiles blinks and Parrish stops, realising that the boy hasn't taken any of what he'd said in. "Sorry, Stiles, you must be exhausted." Stiles sighs out a small attempt at a laugh in agreement because _yeah_ , he is. He doesn't know how long it's been since he actually slept, and even then it's pretty obvious that his last sleep can't have been one of comfort or luxury. It's then that he realises that Parrish is holding the bag full of his dirty clothes and the fact that he doesn't remember Derek giving that to Parrish makes him question how long he'd zoned out for. It can't have been long, can it?

It's been long enough for Scott to arrive, though, and Stiles quickly figures that out when there's a sudden buzz of commotion from just outside the room and the door swings open and Scott barges in, completely dishevelled as if he's just woken up but also as if he hasn't slept in weeks (which, Stiles realises, is probably his fault). Scott's eyes are wide, mouth agape and he mutters out a quite loud, "Stiles, oh my god." And, okay, what is it with his name being the first thing that people when they see him for the first time after three months? He may have forgotten literally everything that happened to him but he hasn't forgotten his own name.

Scott takes a step closer, hesitant as if moving too fast might make Stiles dissolve into the wind. Stiles responds by standing up and taking a (completely instinctive) step backwards. He's pretty sure that he looks like a deer caught in the headlights, filled with a look of terror (though, to be honest, Scott looks just as scared as Stiles feels and Stiles wonders which one of them actually looks more frightened) and that should embarrass him but the only thought running through his head is _do not let Scott touch you_.

He takes another tentative step backwards, expecting Scott to move closer again but Scott tilts his head, looking like a confused puppy and Stiles realises that he can probably hear the thumping of Stiles's heart inside of his chest (Scott and Derek can also probably smell the absolute panic radiating off of him).

"Stiles, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," Scott promises, his voice shaking and Stiles wonders for a second if Scott is just as terrified as he is.

It probably would have worked in calming Stiles down (at least enough for him to be able to sit back down) if his dad didn't stumble in at this _exact_ moment, face red and he's panting but everything goes silent when his gaze drops on Stiles, whose eyes are wide as he pulls the hoodie's sleeves as far over his hands as he can. The sheriff doesn't say anything, eyes fixated on his son who's been missing for _three months_ and who'd been presumed _dead_. He begins to move forward, ignoring Scott's protests (Stiles thinks Scott is trying to explain that he's scared, _terrified_ , and to not move closer because he's completely freaked and he needs the chance to calm down) but the sheriff apparently ignores him and continues walking forward, determined, because this is his son and nobody is going to stop him from hugging his son.

Except maybe Derek Hale.

Just as Stiles thinks it's all over and he might actually have to _kick_ and _scream_ to keep everyone away from him, Derek is towering in front of him, back to Stiles and stopping his dad from getting any closer. Stiles is focused on trying to _breathe_ so he can't really hear what Derek is saying but he manages to comprehend something along the lines of Derek actually _protecting_ him and insisting that the sheriff is not allowed any closer because Stiles is seconds away from a panic attack. Stiles expects to hear shouting and arguments but Derek seems to have actually succeeded. The sheriff steps away (though he's clearly still hesitant) yet Derek doesn't stop standing protectively in front of Stiles and, if they were alone, Stiles would definitely hug him (but, for the sake of Derek's dignity, he holds back).

Parrish decides at that moment that _enough is enough, time to put the poor boy out of his misery_ and steps forward, breaking the silence by clearing his throat. "I've got to take Stiles for his interview. You can all talk later."

Half of Stiles is grateful because, although there are only four people in the room besides him, it seems too crowded and he's beginning to get claustrophobic. But now he's going to be stuck in a room with Parrish, being asked questions that he doesn't have answers to and, if this was anybody _but_ Parrish, he might actually consider crying to get out of it (god, he's so weak). But at least he won't be stuck in a room with his dad (because seriously, sometimes, trying to get his dad to understand something is impossible, _especially_ if he's worried like he is now).

Before he can get himself completely lost in thought again, Stiles moves to follow Parrish but he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Strangely, Stiles doesn't even register the fact that he's letting Derek touch him but nobody else in the room can do the same thing - it just feels natural so he doesn't even stop to question it - which means that he also doesn't notice everyone staring in bewilderment at the contact. Derek leans into Stiles's ear and whispers (so quietly that Stiles would be amazed if Scott even hears it), " _Remember to breathe_."

Stiles gazes into Derek's eyes for a moment as those words register and repeat in his head, and he nods at Derek (though Derek still looks worried). Stiles turns back to Parrish, who begins to walk to the door, and proceeds to follow him. He's careful to keep his eyes trained on his feet as he walks to avoid having to look at his dad or Scott, though he can feel them both staring at him. He follows Parrish on the familiar path towards the interview room and everything is so quiet down here that it even works in silencing Stiles's thoughts for a few moments.

Parrish motions for Stiles to take a seat and then closes the door behind the both of them, and now it's officially just those two. No dad, no Scott, and no _Derek_. Stiles doesn't know how this is going to end. Alarm bells sound in Stiles's head as the door closes - he's trapped in a room with someone that he barely knows - and he has to bite back tears that his body so desperately wants to let out. He sits down, Derek's words echoing in his mind and he does as he'd been told, taking a deep breath in through his nose, _1, 2, 3_ , and slowly letting it out through his mouth. He gets so distracted by trying to breathe for a few minutes and when he comes back into focus, Parrish is sitting across from him, patiently waiting for him to be ready.

"Okay, Stiles, we're going to take it slow. I want you to start wherever you want." Stiles gulps, face going red. Parrish looks so hopeful, as if he thinks he's doing well (even Stiles sometimes forgets how young Parrish actually is), and, honestly, Parrish is being so welcoming and sweet that Stiles's fear is even dissipating a little. If Stiles had anything to say, Parrish's friendly attitude towards this entire situation would definitely have him talking. But, as it happens, he _doesn't_ have anything to say, his brain is still blank and his head is beginning to hurt with all of the remembering he's trying to do, and he feels guilty because Parrish might take this all personally. When Stiles tells him that he doesn't remember anything, Parrish might think that Stiles just doesn't want to tell him what really happened and that he's lying to get out of it.

The thought makes Stiles's stomach churn.

"It's alright, Stiles, take as much time as you need." Parrish is flashing that gentle smile and Stiles'll be damned if it doesn't make him question why he's afraid of Parrish - the guy seems like he'd cry if he killed a fly.

He still doesn't know what he's going to say, how he's going to explain this entire situation. He could make up an entire story - he's good at lying when he's under pressure. But that probably wouldn't go down well with the werewolves, they'd be able to tell he was lying with ease. He also doesn't think he'd ever be able to look his dad in the eye again if he lied, the guilt would just eat at him.

Besides, his head is in so much of a mess that it feels like a scrambled egg (Stiles is so tired that he almost laughs at that thought), and he doesn't think he could think of a lie about his own name, even if it was life or death.

He finally settles on what he'd done with Derek, since that seemed to work out okay, so he shrugs and says, "I don't remember anything."

Parrish raises an eyebrow, as if expecting Stiles to elaborate, but Stiles just stares blankly - he's waiting to see how Parrish reacts before continuing. "I don't... What do you mean, you 'don't remember anything'? Nothing _at all_?"

Parrish doesn't look doubtful, just intrigued and shocked, as if he believes Stiles but he just doesn't _understand_. "The first thing I remember after apparently disappearing for three months is that I'm running in the woods, clothes bloodied and I'm running towards Derek's house."

Stiles realises how stupid that sounds the moment he says it out loud. He's just vocally admitted to running straight to Derek Hale's house (aka ex-fugitive and all-round asshole) rather than going home and if that doesn't make his heart stop momentarily then he's crazy.

Though that's probably already been established.

Parrish is the first to verbally question it, though, eyes narrowing in confusion. "You went straight to Derek's? Why?"

Stiles shrugs again, avoiding eye contact and he's beginning to feel insecure again. He tries to pull the sleeves over his hands more, but if he pulls any further he might rip them. The hood is already over his head and he realises that he can't sink any further into the hoodie to hide himself. He gulps, throat dry, and Derek's words in his head telling him to _breathe_ are only working so much.

Parrish notices the panic soon enough, though, and seems to realise that that wasn't a good question to ask so he's quick to change the subject. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. But back to not-remembering, do you think it could be something to do with the supernatural?"

Stiles can only shrug. It's rude, he knows that, but he's done with the questions for tonight. He's ready to just flop down on any flat surface and sleep for a year.

Parrish smiles gently again. "I think that's enough for now; you must be tired." Part of Stiles is beginning to become convinced that Parrish is psychic. Maybe it's an undiscovered trait of being a hellhound. "You can go home soon, Stiles. All that's left is a trip to the hospital to make sure everything's okay."

Stiles actually wants to scream in frustration. Why can't people just leave him alone? "Do I have to?" He sounds like a whiny little child, complaining about having to go shopping with their parents or something else they just _do not_ want to do, he _feels_ like a child, and he just wants people to stop mollycoddling him. He just wants people to leave him alone - he'd be fine without all of them.

(Except maybe Derek, but he won't ever admit that to anyone).

Parrish looks guilty again, which just makes Stiles's heart hurt. "Come on, Stiles, you're not stupid; you know the drill. You're a minor and you have to follow procedure unless a parent or guardian says otherwise and, I'm sorry, but I doubt your dad is going to forego this hospital visit." Stiles must look a bit confused because Parrish sighs. "I don't know if you've had the chance to look in a mirror yet, but you're pretty beaten up, and we can only see your face."

Stiles's hand automatically moves to his cheek, where he can feel a wound that's beginning to scab over. It doesn't make him want to look in a mirror; if anything, it makes him want to avoid them.

"Okay, well, you wait here, and I'll go get the others. I'll be back in a few minutes."


	3. I Can’t Promise To Take The Pain Away, But You Can Know I Won’t Stop Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know, it's creepy to stalk a minor in the streets when it's dark out."
> 
> Stiles's voice takes Derek by surprise. It's louder than he expects it to be, and a little bit of the usual sarcasm has returned and, although it's annoying, Derek has kind of missed it (not that he'd ever admit that to anyone). "It's also dangerous to wander the streets alone at night."

Parrish isn't gone for much longer than five minutes, but when he returns with the sheriff, Scott, and (an insistent on staying) Derek in tow, Stiles is gone.

Noah, obviously, is the first to panic. He wastes no time in telling Parrish to get every available officer out looking for his son, but just as Scott says he'll leave to search as well, Derek interrupts, "It's fine. I can find him."

Everybody turns to face him, dumbfounded, and the sheriff's looking at him like he's stupid - which is probably a viable opinion. "You think I'm going to trust you, a werewolf ex-fugitive, over a department full of _trained professionals_?"

Derek takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm, to focus on Stiles instead of his anger, but he's beginning to get agitated. They're wasting time, he could be out looking for Stiles right now, and every second they spend arguing about this is just longer for Stiles to keep moving. "I can track his scent, just like Scott can. I can find him." The sheriff seems ready to argue, but Derek cuts him off, "Besides, I'm the only person that Stiles can actually handle being around right now, in case you've forgotten. If anybody else finds him, he'll freak. You know that."

The sheriff is clearly hesitant, but Scott must send him a look with a hidden, reassuring message because he finally agrees, jaw clenching. "You've got half an hour. After that, it's down to the humans."

Derek's out of the building before the sheriff is even finished, not waiting about to give him a chance to change his mind. He knows he can find Stiles before they can, he has to, it'll be better for Stiles this way. He can handle Stiles, and Stiles can deal with being around him; anybody else finding him will just end in disaster.

It doesn't take him long, just a few minutes of winding through a random path of streets (which makes it obvious that Stiles has no plan on where he's going - he's probably just trying to hide from everyone). When he spots the boy, Derek sends the sheriff a quick text to tell him that he's found Stiles and that he'll bring him home soon.

"You know, it's creepy to stalk a minor in the streets when it's dark out."

Stiles's voice takes Derek by surprise. It's louder than he expects it to be, and a little bit of the usual sarcasm has returned and, although it's annoying, Derek has kind of missed it (not that he'd ever admit that to anyone). "It's also dangerous to wander the streets alone at night."

Stiles stops, and Derek can almost feel the frustration radiating off of him. Stiles doesn't turn so Derek doesn't move closer, as not to scare him.

"Why? What could happen? I go missing for another three months?" Derek is silent, and takes a tentative step closer. "Why do you even care?"

Derek has to bite back a desperate whine. Stiles genuinely thinks that going missing for that whole time can't have affected Derek at all, which is complete bullshit. Derek just doesn't admit to that sort of thing, he doesn't like to say that he _cares_ because that just makes him vulnerable. "Because we've all been worried, Stiles." He isn't concerned that he's pretty much admitted that he'd been worried when Stiles had been gone because, seriously, who hadn't been? He'd just disappeared, in the middle of the night, without a trace. Every single one of the werewolves had tried to track his scent, but it had just led to the woods and then it had just _stopped_.

Derek wants to bring up how weird Stiles has been acting all night. He knows that Stiles had been scared of his father and of Scott, and it's not like Stiles to be scared of _anything_. Besides, even if Stiles _is_ scared of something, he _hides_ it, especially from what he's scared _of_.

"I mean, come on, but you've been MIA for three months. I- _we_ tried so hard to find you but you were _nowhere_ , and then you just turn up, beaten and bruised at my door with no memory of what happened to you."

Stiles's heart skips a beat, and Derek hears it but he doesn't mention it, because he doesn't know what that means. He probably shouldn't have said all of that; not tonight, at least. Stiles needs to sleep, needs to rest before having to deal with anything else, and Derek knows that but he's trying his hardest to show Stiles that he cares, which he's terrible enough at as is but he's trying to do it without outright saying _Stiles, you idiot, I fucking care about you!!!_

Stiles is silent, though, and Derek wonders if he's pushed him too far. It's probably too much too soon and Stiles is probably about to tell him to go away and yell or something else that Stiles likes to do. Or maybe Derek's been too obvious about the whole caring thing and Stiles is about to call him out on it.

He's wrong on both accounts, though. Stiles _does_ seem to find it too much to handle, but he doesn't yell or anything like Derek expects him to.

He runs.

It takes Derek a moment to catch on. He's surprised; Stiles seems to think that he can actually _outrun_ him. Okay, yeah, Stiles is amazing at a lot of thing that Derek isn't, but he seriously can't expect to _defeat_ a werewolf in a race.

Derek catches up in seconds, obviously, and tackles Stiles to the ground in an attempt to stop him. But despite his past fondness for causing Stiles physical pain, Derek cradles the boy close to his chest as they both fall in order to avoid hurting him. Stiles tries to struggle against him but his exhaustion is clearly taking over because Derek barely has to fight back. Stiles seems to give up eventually and just sinks back into Derek's hold.

"I think it's time for you to go home."

Derek's met with resistance again, this time at an unexpectedly strong level, and, in a moment of surprise, Stiles manages to pull away from his grasp. Stiles sits up, ignoring the wetness of the ground, and looks ready to argue, but eventually just sighs and settles on, "You're not gonna let me say no, are you?"

Stiles sounds so sad, so defeated, and Derek's heart breaks, but Stiles _needs_ to go home. It's the safest place for him (even if it's the place that he went missing from in the first place), especially now that Derek's going to be spending a lot more time watching over him, protecting him. Derek stands up and, before Stiles can argue, he picks the boy up bridal-style. He expects Stiles to argue, or resist at least a little bit, because this is _Derek Hale: Big Bad Wolf_ and he's currently carrying Stiles like a girl (as Stiles would put it). But Stiles is surprisingly calm, showing a dopey smile and he rests his head against Derek's chest, deeply inhaling his scent.

Derek tries to convince himself that Stiles is only acting like this because he's tired.

Stiles's eyes are closed within seconds and he looks the most peaceful he has the whole night. Derek sighs to himself and begins to walk back to his car. Stiles is light in his arms, lighter than he should be, and Derek wonders when he last ate. Stiles interrupts his thoughts, though, and almost makes Derek physically jump because Derek thought that he'd already fallen asleep.

"Are you gonna leave?"

He sounds so vulnerable and scared and, _god_ , Derek's heart breaks all over again. "Do you want me to?" he asks, because if Stiles wants him to stay then nothing will make him leave, but if Stiles wants him to go then he'll make himself scarce and he'll stay gone gone until Stiles decides otherwise.

Stiles peeks open an eye. "No."

Derek offers him a reassuring smile. "Then I'm not going anywhere." Stiles grins again, then nuzzles his nose back against his chest. "Go to sleep, Stiles."

Stiles mumbles out some incoherent words and his eyes slip closed again, and Derek soon hears breathing even out so he knows that Stiles is asleep this time. After a few more minutes of walking, Derek arrives back at his car. He sits Stiles down in the front passenger seat as comfortably as he can without waking the boy, then climbs into the driver's seat and begins to drive. The drive is silent (save for the soft sound of Stiles's breathing), like Derek is used to, but it makes him feel uneasy. If Stiles is around, then things shouldn't be this quiet and, okay, the boy may be asleep but it just makes Derek feel _wrong_.

He thinks it might be a while before they get the old Stiles back.

Derek thinks a lot throughout the drive. He thinks about what could've happened to Stiles while he'd been gone. He tries to focus on all of the things he can smell on Stiles, so many different scents that he can smell on him, some he recognises and some he doesn't.

He doesn't want to think about the smells he's pretty sure he recognises. They scare him and, if he's right, then he hopes and prays that Stiles _never_ remembers anything that happened to him.

He soon arrives at the Stilinski household, but stays outside for just a few minutes. He takes in how Stiles looks, his beaten face and he wonders where else the boy is hurt. He can't smell anything serious, or at least nothing that won't heal with a few weeks of rest but, as usual, his nose can't tell him everything. And, okay, he may be staring at a sleeping teenage boy (it's not as creepy as it sounds, he _swears_ ) but he's not going to check for any hidden injuries without Stiles's consent. He knows boundaries.

Unlike some, apparently.

Derek decides to bring Stiles inside before the sheriff catches him just sitting in the car, watching his underage son sleep. So he turns off the engine and climbs out of his seat, then goes round to Stiles's side of the car. He contemplates waking Stiles but he still looks so peaceful that Derek can't find the heart to, so Derek just bundles Stiles up into his arms. Stiles stirs but doesn't wake, and Derek journeys to the front door of the house, and knocks (with a little bit of a struggle) and waits. The sheriff is moving about inside so Derek knows he's awake, and it isn't long until Noah answers. He looks worried when he answers, which is to be expected, but visibly relaxes once he sees Stiles fast asleep in Derek's arms.

"He's okay," Derek tells Noah, and he takes a step inside, door closing behind him. Noah pushes a strand of hair from Stiles's face, checking over him. He knows that Derek will be able to tell if there's something seriously wrong with Stiles's health but he wants to make sure for himself. "I don't think he'll need to go to hospital." Derek hesitates before adding, "I don't think he _wants_ to go, either." He doesn't explain why (not that he knows the full story, but he knows enough to be sure that Stiles wouldn't want anyone else knowing) and he definitely doesn't say that Stiles is scared - even though it's been obvious already that Stiles is scared, Derek knows there's more behind it.

"Thanks for finding him." Noah doesn't look into Derek's eyes, but Derek's not complaining. He's not one for all this sentimentality with people he's not close to, and even then it's rare.

Derek shifts uncomfortably. "I'll, um... take him upstairs." He cringes internally at how that sounds, but the sheriff nods so he takes that as his cue. He carries Stiles to the bottom of the stairs before he stops and turns back to the sheriff. "He asked me to stay." He gulps and hopes that Noah isn't against this (not that it'll make much of a difference; Stiles wants Derek to stay, so he's going to stay). "Is that, uh- is that okay?"

Noah seems to hesitate, and Derek's heart actually stops for a split second, but quickly smiles warmly (or, at least, as warmly as he can when he's smiling at Derek Hale). "Yeah, that's okay. It'll be good to have someone else watching over him, especially whilst I'm at work." He's silent for a moment, eyes narrowed almost threateningly. "He seems to like you, Derek. I honestly have no idea why, but he trusts you. Don't hurt him."

Derek says nothing, just nods. He has no intention of hurting Stiles (though he does have a habit of messing things up). He's here to protect, to keep Stiles safe and to do everything he possibly can to help him. And if or when he's no longer needed, or no longer wanted, he'll go.

But only then.

He continues up to Stiles's bedroom, completely untouched for almost three months. Nobody's been in here since the investigation led to the police searching Stiles's room for anything that they could use (which turned out to be absolutely nothing), so it's a mess (Derek decides he'll clean while Stiles sleeps, in order to pass the time). Noah has refused to come into this room until Stiles returns home, so the door has stayed shut all this time.

Derek closes the door with his back behind them so the room's engulfed in darkness, but he doesn't turn on a light. The moon's enough for him. Stiles's bed isn't made, the comforter all crumpled up, so Derek lays the still sleeping boy down and flattens the comforter over him. He pulls off Stiles's shoes, but doesn't try to remove anything else. Stiles stays asleep, so Derek begins to clean.

He gathers up all of the books that appear to have been thrown all over the floor and piles them all neatly on the desk, then puts all of the clothes (which also appear to have been thrown carelessly to the ground - seriously, can Stiles not clean up after himself? It's borderline a pigsty) into the laundry basket. The room already looks much cleaner, so he decides to take a break and sits on the desk chair and sighs. The sheriff is still awake downstairs; Derek can hear him watching the television so the home isn't silent but it's quiet enough that Derek wants to refrain from making any noise.

(He's also just noticed that if anybody catches him in here, it's going to look beyond creepy. He's a grown man, sitting in a desk chair in a teenage boy's room, staring at said boy - who is fast asleep upon his bed.)

Derek sighs again and spins the chair once. He could go downstairs and... _socialise_ (ew) - Noah knows that he's here so it's not as if he's hiding. But Derek isn't good with people. Stiles is the first person he's been close to since the fire (well, the first person that Derek's felt a need to care for that isn't just because of his instinct to keep his pack safe), and he needs to protect him. He has to make sure no harm comes to him again because losing Stiles for those few months had been hell and he can't let anything like that happen again. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

It had been when Stiles went missing that Derek realised - Stiles is his mate. He doesn't know why he hadn't noticed it before, but he knows now, which makes him at least a little angry. Maybe if he'd figured it out earlier he could have prevented this, could've protected Stiles, stopped him having to go through any of what he'd have to go through.

Which is what makes that _one thing_ he can smell on Stiles that much worse. It makes him sick to the stomach, repulses him, and it makes him want to _kill_ whatever did that to Stiles, but-

A sudden rise in Stiles's heartbeat brings Derek from his thoughts. He looks over - Stiles is still asleep, but his face crumpled into one of fear, so Derek begins to make his way over, slowly and cautious of Stiles's rapidly rising heartbeat.

He stops next to the bed and gently presses a hand to Stiles's cheek but Stiles lets out a whimper and flinches away. "Stiles," Derek whispers, stomach twisting uncomfortably at the helpless sounds coming from the boy's mouth. He can tell that Stiles is having a nightmare and wants to wake him up before it gets any worse, but Stiles stays asleep. " _Stiles_ ," Derek repeats, giving Stiles's shoulder a light but firm shake.

Stiles gasps, eyes flying open and he shoots up, palms flat across the bed as he breathes heavily, clearly struggling to take deep enough breaths. Derek puts his hand on the back of Stiles's neck to keep him steady and give him something to ground himself on to help him breathe (he guesses Stiles is trying to avoid a panic attack), as Stiles squeezes his eyes shut, still trying to breathe deeply. Derek refuses to comment on the silent tear slipping from his eyes.

Eventually, Stiles opens his eyes again. He looks up hesitantly, and when he sees Derek his cheeks immediately turn red. "What are you still doing here?"

Derek neglects to bring up the fact that, earlier, Stiles had been completely against the idea of going home alone (or home at all), but now he seems fine with being in his own room. He also doesn't want to ask what the dream had been about - if Stiles wants him to know, he'll tell him. "You asked me to stay," he reminds Stiles.

Stiles is silent, but he shows this small and bewildered smile that makes Derek's heart flutter. Derek thinks that maybe Stiles hadn't expected him to stay, despite promising that he would. He tries not to be hurt by that, he's not exactly the most trustworthy person but he wouldn't _lie_ to Stiles. He thought Stiles knew that.

"You should go back to sleep," he tells Stiles, aware of the fact that Stiles hasn't even slept for an hour and he looks completely exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Stiles shakes his head, though, and Derek isn't surprised. He knows from experience that nightmares are hard to shake off, and Stiles's heart still hasn't slowed down completely so he's clearly still thinking about it and what it was about.

"Stiles-"

"Cuddle with me?"

Oh, _god_. Derek completely freezes, startled, and even Stiles looks like he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Derek's not _against_ it, not at all, he just... well, he doesn't know why he's trying to think arguments against it.

" _Please_."

Stiles actually looks _desperate_ now that he's said it and it's out there, and Derek can't refuse him. The boy has to sleep and if this is the only way he will then Derek is fine with it. This is about Stiles - he's all Derek cares about right now.

So Derek sighs, defeated - not that it would've taken much convincing; he simply can't resist Stiles - and motions for Stiles to move over. Stiles does just that, shuffling away towards the wall, and Derek kicks off his shoes before climbing under the comforter. He lies down on his back and Stiles moves closer (looking so unnaturally shy, Derek notes), and Derek pulls him even closer so that Stiles is curled into his side, head on Derek's chest. Stiles reaches his arm across Derek's stomach, cuddling closer, and Derek puts his hand on Stiles's back.

"Thank you," Stiles mumbles into Derek's chest. Derek smiles, even though Stiles can't see him, and moves other hand so that it's combing through Stiles's hair. He's noticed that Stiles's heart is beating slowly again, so he deems it safe to sleep for a while and closes his eyes.


	4. Oh, Why You Look So Sad, The Tears Are In Your Eyes, Come On And Come To Me Now, And Don't Be Ashamed To Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles jerks awake with a scream, chest heaving as he gasps for breath. There's arms around him immediately, and he's trapped, just like in the dream and he tries to push them off, strained voice begging them to stop and to let him go. A voice sounds in his ear, "Stiles, you're okay. You're home, this is Derek and you're safe. Nobody's going to hurt you, I promise."

_There are hands everywhere, holding him down - he can't move. He tries to struggle, but their hold is so tight that he's just exhausting himself, making it worse. He tries to scream instead, but his throat is raw so no sound comes out and then there's someone laughing at him._

_His cheeks are wet, and he realises that he's crying but he can't move his hands to wipe the tears away so all he can do is sob, and the laughter just continues, growing in volume and ferocity. It hurts, and he begs them to stop, to let him go, to please, please, **please** stop. His eyes sting, tears streaming and no one's listening to him, **why is no one listening to him?!**_

_He tries to scream for his dad, Scott, Derek, anybody to **please help** , but there's just more laughing and more pain and it **won't stop** -_

Stiles jerks awake with a scream, chest heaving as he gasps for breath. There's arms around him immediately, and he's trapped, just like in the dream and he tries to push them off, strained voice begging them to stop and to let him go. A voice sounds in his ear, "Stiles, you're okay. You're home, this is Derek and you're safe. Nobody's going to hurt you, I promise."

Derek keeps rambling until Stiles is breathing evenly, no longer panicking but he's still crying and gripping at Derek's shirt like he's afraid to let go, like holding on to Derek is the only thing keeping him from that dream. Derek just holds him close and prays this isn't what he thinks it is.

"Derek-" Stiles whimpers, but he's interrupted by another sob and he claws at Derek's shirt, grip tightening so much that his knuckles turn white. Derek's heart is hammering inside his chest, the anticipation clawing at his throat, and he won't be surprised if Stiles can feel it. He tells Stiles to, "Ssh," and lays his head on top of the boy's.

"They wouldn't stop," Stiles tries to explain but he doesn't seem to be able to form the words and Derek doesn't blame him. He's not sure how much Stiles remembers from the dream, if he remembers anything that happened to him but, either way, Derek knows Stiles going to need all of the support he can get.

"I think-" Stiles starts, but he cuts himself off and pulls away from Derek so that he's able to look up at him. His crying has died down to a few stray tears but he's still trembling, and he's staring at Derek with this accusatory look that makes Derek's heart stop. The second of silence that follows feels like an eternity, and Derek can only gulp as he awaits what Stiles is going to say. "You can smell it, can't you?"

 _Fuck_.

Derek freezes, face paling and he tries to come up with some sort of excuse, some sort of explanation but his brain isn't cooperating, he can't think. All that's going through his head is that _Stiles knows, he knows and it's true and god, this is bad, this is **so bad**_ , "Stiles-"

"Don't." Stiles is stiff, avoiding eye contact and Derek decides that that, coupled with a rise in his heartbeat means that Stiles is nervous (obviously, you idiot). "Just... look, if you want to go, then I completely-"

" _Stiles_." Derek puts his hand under the boy's chin and forces Stiles to look at him. "I told you: I'm not going anywhere so long as you want me to stay."

Stiles doesn't say anything, instead just buries himself back into Derek's chest. Derek sighs, deciding that now probably isn't the best time to talk about this and it can wait until later - for now, they can relax. So he leans back against the wall, Stiles resting against his chest and he takes a deep breath. He knows that Stiles is awake and that he's not trying to go back to sleep, and he probably won't want to for a while.

But Derek doesn't talk, waiting for Stiles to speak first, if he even does. The boy's been through enough and Derek decides that Stiles needs to take things at his own pace for a while. Everything has been thrown at him these past few hours, he's been told exactly what to do and Derek knows it's been stressing him out. Stiles is terrified of everyone (except Derek. Derek thinks it has something to do with the fact that they're mates, but he's honestly not sure. He doesn't have much experience with this and, because of his age when the fire had happened, he'd never had a proper talk about mates with his parents. His mother used to talk about it sometimes, though, and she'd said that mates are connected in ways that normal members of the pack aren't. She'd said that when Derek finds his mate, he should be able to tell when Stiles is hurt or in danger or something? He doesn't really remember, but one thing he does know is that he could feel _physical pain_ when Stiles had been missing), and Derek wants to know why but he's not sure how to ask. He wants to know if Stiles is scared of Scott and everyone else just because of what happened to him and it's making him afraid of everyone, or if it's because he _actually_ thinks they'll hurt him.

"Is my dad asleep?" Stiles's voice takes Derek by surprise, not expecting Stiles to speak at all just yet.

"He came to see if you were okay after you woke up." He doesn't want to bring up the topic of the nightmare right now, he just wants Stiles to not have to think about things for a while. But, then again, this is _Stiles_ and he never stops thinking. If you listen close enough, it's like you can hear the cogs working inside of his head as he tries to make sense of everything. "I think he went back to sleep, though."

He feels Stiles nod against his chest. "Can we go downstairs?" Derek's about to answer but Stiles continues before he can. "It's too quiet up here, I don't like it."

Derek moves before he answers, "You don't need to ask, Stiles." He's standing up, Stiles still sitting on the bed, staring at him in what can only be described as disbelief, and for a split second, Derek wants to reach his hand out for Stiles to take. But that's probably too much without questions being asked, it's weird, something they just don't do, so he just waits instead. "Come on, Stiles." Stiles seems to try for a grin, but Derek notices that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Derek doesn't comment on it, though, and instead begins to head downstairs, making sure that Stiles is always less than two steps behind him (he may be acting just a little paranoid, but he has reason!).

Derek turns on the light when the arrive in the living room. It's weird being in here, he's usually only ever in Stiles's room after sneaking in through the window to get Stiles to do research or just to make sure he's okay after checking on the rest of the pack, once they'd finished a particularly harsh hunt. So he's never actually in here, and it's more homely than he's used to, warm and welcoming and _weird_ (but he kind of likes it - that may be because it reminds him of Stiles, though).

He doesn't notice Stiles freeze at the door for longer than should be normal until he realises that he has no idea what he's doing and then becomes aware of the lack of teenage presence in the room. He turns to look at Stiles, who is standing in the doorway, eyes glazed over. Derek wonders what's going through his mind. He can smell slight panic but unfortunately he can't read minds so he has to resort to asking, "Stiles? Are you alright?"

Stiles takes a minute to reply, but soon blinks himself back into focus. "Yeah," he says, looking at Derek but he doesn't sound sure, still seems a little distracted. "Um, let's watch a movie."

Derek wants to question it but he knows he can't. He wants Stiles to tell him everything but the rational part of Derek reminds himself that Stiles will talk only if he wants to - pushing him for answers will only push him away - so Derek's just going to have to get Stiles to trust him, get him to _want_ to talk. He'll know if it's necessary to push Stiles for answers, and right now it isn't.

Stiles is over finding a DVD before Derek can say anything and he decides to just let Stiles do what he needs. If this keeps Stiles calm then Derek will just go with it. He instead just takes a seat on the couch and watches as Stiles picks out a few films. Stiles does run them past Derek but Derek just agrees because it's what Stiles wants and he's okay with that. So long as it keeps Stiles happy.

He's not ashamed to admit that he'd do anything for this boy.

Stiles puts the first film on and then he's on the sofa next to Derek. He's not immediately cuddled into Derek's side, like Derek kind of expects, and he feels just a little hurt by that. But maybe Stiles just doesn't want physical contact just now, after that dream (which Derek wouldn't be surprised by), or maybe Derek's just been kidding himself and Stiles doesn't actually trust him like he'd thought.

Derek's heart hurts just a little at the thought.

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't notice that Stiles is staring at him and paying no attention to the film until Derek glances quickly to his left and meets wide, brown eyes. Derek raises an eyebrow, Stiles's gaze is intense and _wow_ Derek's heart is pounding with anticipation. Stiles is silent, though, and Derek guesses he's craving some form of physical contact but seems hesitant to ask.

Eventually, Stiles shuffles closer, and Derek lifts his arm to make room so that Stiles is able to curl into his side, sighing contentedly. Derek hooks his arm around Stiles's smaller frame and Stiles's head is resting on his shoulder, nose nuzzled into Derek's neck and Derek's not going to lie - this probably calms him down just as much as it calms Stiles. He has Stiles here, safe in his arms, and he can protect him, make sure that he won't lose him again.

He can't lose him again.

Derek wonders what would happen if Noah was to come downstairs at this exact moment to see his underage son curled up against Derek Hale. Sure, the sheriff had seen them cuddling together earlier, but Derek knows that Noah will have boundaries for his own son, and he just wonders if this is crossing one of those lines. Would he chuck Derek out, demanding that he come nowhere near his son ever again because a bullet to the head surely won't be easy to recover from - even for a werewolf? Or would he be okay with it, because it's what Stiles needs, and Stiles comes first? Derek doesn't know which is worse.

He's pretty sure that neither of them are paying much attention to the film, but it's nice to have the noise playing in the background. He's tuned in on Stiles's heartbeat, though, slow and steady, and Stiles is fiddling with Derek's hands. They're content, for now.

Derek's not sure how long they sit like that for, but it doesn't feel like long before there's sunlight filtering through the curtains. It makes Derek realise that Stiles can't have slept for more than a few hours and he must be exhausted but Derek knows that, if he brings up the topic of going back to sleep, he's going to be met with resistance. So he'll just wait and see if he can make it so that Stiles is calm enough that he just drifts of without even thinking about it.

"Stiles?"

Stiles hums into Derek's shoulder, signalling for him to continue.

"I'm going to go and find you something to eat. Is there anything particular that you want?"

Derek half expects Stiles to say he's not hungry, but he also expects Stiles to be absolutely starving and to want everything he can possibly have (either way, Derek's going to be making him something because he can tell just by looking that the boy needs to eat). But Stiles doesn't say anything and Derek instead feels him shrug into Derek's side, as if he doesn't care what Derek gives him, or if he gives him anything at all.

Okay, Derek knows he used to complain about how much Stiles talked, how much he rambled and how often Derek would have to yell at him to _shut up, Stiles_ , but this just isn't right. Stiles just isn't quiet like this, it's _wrong_ and it makes Derek feel uneasy. He'd give anything for just _one_ rant, or to at least hear Stiles _speak_.

But he won't push him. He knows not to, despite how much he wants to, and instead stands up, pulling away from Stiles in the process.

Derek tries to convince himself that he doesn't hear Stiles whine at the loss of contact.

Derek doesn't really _want_ to leave Stiles. He'd been comfortable where he was but Stiles has to eat (he's just making excuses. He doesn't want to leave Stiles because he has this deep, irrational fear that, as soon as he can't see or feel Stiles, the boy will disappear. He knows he's being paranoid, but he can't help it - he _will not_ lose him again). Stiles watches as Derek makes his way to the kitchen and Derek's struggling to identify the look on the boy's face. He can smell slight anxiety (though that is pretty normal for Stiles) but he's not good at reading facial expressions (which is annoying because he remembers Stiles once bringing up the topic of Derek's eyebrows and how they convey so many different emotions, and that Stiles has memorised each and every one of his expressions - not that Derek knew there were many of them in the first place, he thought he just generally looked pissed off - and exactly what they mean); Derek has to rely on his nose, and that can only get him so far. He thinks it's some sort of longing look but he won't let himself believe that, despite how much he wants to, in case he's wrong.

Once he makes it to the kitchen, Derek realises he has no idea what he's doing. This isn't his house and, despite it being one of the first times he's actually been _welcomed_ into the house rather than creeping in through Stiles's bedroom window, he still feels awkward and like he doesn't belong here (but he does feel like he belongs with Stiles). So he kind of just stands awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets and he looks a bit like a child who's just been forced into attending an adult party without any other children around, just looking around, completely lost. He doesn't feel right about raiding through cupboards, so he resorts to looking in the fridge. He finds chicken and butter, and there's bread on the counter, then decides that he can make a chicken sandwich and nothing can go wrong.

Hopefully.

So he makes a sandwich and puts it on a small plate before returning to the living room. Stiles's head snaps up the moment he hears Derek and he just watches as Derek moves back over to the sofa. As Derek puts the plate on the table, he explains, "I made you a sandwich. It's chicken. I hope that's okay. I didn't want to-"

" _Derek_ ," Stiles interrupts. "It's fine, honestly. Thank you." Stiles smiles a little at Derek's flushed cheeks and Derek sits back down, not quite touching Stiles but they're close enough that Derek can feel the warmth radiating from him. Stiles reaches over and takes a slow bite from the sandwich, as if he doesn't know whether or not he actually wants to eat it, but Derek decides not to bring up the topic of eating in case it puts Stiles off.

Stiles only takes a couple of bites before he puts the sandwich back down. Derek won't complain - at least he's eaten something and, besides, Stiles is currently in the process of lying down, head resting on Derek's lap, so he's more focused on that, anyways. So Derek leans back, one hand moving to comb through Stiles's hair and Stiles lets out a small sigh.

It's a while before anyone speaks again, and this time it's Stiles. His voice is quiet, unsure almost, but Derek hears him when he asks, "Could Scott smell it?"

Derek gulps. He hadn't expected to talk about any of this until later and he'd expected _himself_ to be the one to have to bring it up, thinking that Stiles won't want to talk about it (and Derek doesn't want to, either, but it's something that they will need to sit down and have a serious conversation about). "I don't think so." Stiles doesn't react, lying stiff, as if he's waiting for Derek to clarify. Derek's struggling to find a way to explain that the reason the smell is so much clearer to him is because he's Stiles's mate without actually saying he's Stiles's mate, and that that smell would have stood out to him more than anyone else because it's kind of a warning that something is wrong with his mate, that something has happened that Derek cannot even begin to comprehend. That something's different and he has to fix it, to make it better because something is wrong and pretty much all he could think when Stiles had appeared out of nowhere was _fix, protect, fix, protect, **fix** , **protect**_. Whereas, with Scott, Scott's more focused on the fact that his best friend his home and not actually dead and so he's more focused on what he can see and not what he can smell and, even if he had been smelling Stiles, he would've smelled fear, and maybe something else that he doesn't recognise but he wouldn't have been trying to figure that out at that precise moment because Stiles is there and _he's not dead, he's alive, he's actually **alive**_. "He'd have smelled something different about you, something that didn't used to be there, but I think that, because he didn't recognise it and because he's your best friend, it'll have been overshadowed by the smell of your fear."

Yeah, that'll do.

Except it won't, because Derek hears Stiles sniffle and he realises that he's crying. So he manoeuvres Stiles, pulling him up so that he's now curled up in Derek's lap and he just holds him, wishing that he could take away Stiles's emotional pain rather than just his physical pain. But he can't, so all he can do is bend his mouth down to Stiles's ear and whisper, "Stiles, it's okay, you're okay. I've got you."

Stiles just whimpers. "It's not okay."

"Maybe not," Derek agrees, "but it will be." He's going to keep that promise, he's going to make everything better. He _has_ to. "Stiles, you're going to be okay. You're safe now, you've got friends and family and they're all here for you, to protect you, to help you."

Stiles just sniffles but doesn't argue, so Derek figures that he must've gotten through to him at least a little. "Are you gonna tell anyone?"

Derek's confused about what Stiles means for a moment, considering he thought they'd moved on from that part of the conversation but, when it registers, his heart actually drops. Stiles sounds terrified, as if he thinks that Derek _will_ tell someone and god, it breaks Derek's heart how much that scares Stiles. "Like who?" He's not meaning to scare Stiles further, to make him think that he actually might tell someone. He just wants to know who scares Stiles the most right now, and this might give him some sense of direction.

"I don't know." He sounds so nervous that Derek goes to continue but Stiles beats him to it. "My dad? Scott? Just _anyone_ , Derek."

"Stiles," Derek growls but it's not vicious, at least not at Stiles, and he's become aware of Stiles's steadily rising heartbeat. "I'm not going to tell anyone that you don't want me to. No one else knows, and it'll stay that way unless you decide otherwise."

Stiles glances up at him, a bit unsure, but he visibly relaxes, and he melts back into Derek's chest just a little, and his heart slows down again. "Is there anywhere else for us to go? If you don't mind, I mean!" Stiles pulls away a little to look back up at Derek. "I don't like it here," he adds, a little more hesitantly.

Derek just smiles fondly at Stiles's flushed cheeks. "Well, I bought a loft a couple of months ago, so we could go there, if you want."

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, visibly confused and that just confuses Derek because _what_? What's the problem? "Why were you at the house, then?"

 _Oh_ , right. Derek wonders what he should say; he'd just wanted some time away from everybody else, time to think - mostly about Stiles. Everybody else had been tense, a bit lost with no idea what they should do because, without Stiles, it just felt wrong. So he began to use the house as an escape from the loft - where the rest of the pack typically was. He's just not sure if that's too forward right now, so he settles on, "I just wanted to be alone for a bit, so I just went there. It's quiet, peaceful, and I needed that."

But Derek's luck means that that explanation doesn't work either because he sees guilt fill Stiles's features, his eyes widening. "Oh, did I interrupt you? I'm sorry if-"

"Stiles, shut up."

For a split second, Derek worries that that was the wrong thing to say because he'd just said it out of habit but, unexpectedly, Stiles grins at that - like a full-on, mouth splitting grin and it makes Derek's heart flutter and he's unable to hide his own smile. "We can go there," Derek continues, "but Isaac will probably be there."

Stiles hesitates, brows furrowing as he seems to think for a moment. But he confidently says, "I can handle Isaac."

He still looks a little unsure, which makes Derek unsure, and he says, "I can ask him to leave, if you want. He won't mind."

"It's fine," Stiles assures, but Derek isn't entirely convinced. "Honestly, Derek, I can deal with Isaac."

Derek decides against arguing. If Stiles can't handle it when they so see Isaac, he can deal with it then. "Okay, we can go there soon." He pauses before adding, "Can you try to say hello to your dad before we go?"

Stiles's face pales, and if he doesn't want to do it then Derek won't force him. He just wants to ease Stiles into contact with his dad because he's clearly still scared of him (though Derek's yet to figure out why). But Stiles nods, and Derek's apparently psychic because it's at that moment that he hears movement upstairs. "Well, just a warning - he's awake now."

Stiles's eyes fall shut for a moment and Derek hears him take a deep breath, as if calming himself. Derek thinks about changing his mind and telling Stiles that they can just go now, but that wouldn't be fair and he just has to let this play out despite how much it scares him (which is kind of pathetic because _he_ shouldn't be the one getting scared right now).

But then the sheriff's here, frozen in the doorway and all Derek can do is tune in on Stiles's heartbeat and breathing and just keep an eye on him. He watches Stiles, who's just staring at his dad with wide eyes. But he seems calm, and Derek wonders if maybe, now that Stiles knows that his dad won't touch him or come too close, this doesn't scare him so much anymore.

"Hi, dad." Stiles's voice is slightly higher pitched than normal, a sign that he's nervous, but at least he's _talking_. Noah just stays frozen, staring at his son who is actually able to be in the same room as him without freaking out like he had last night. Derek had been sure that that would be it, because all he had asked for was Stiles to say hello, but Stiles continues, "We're, um... We're gonna go to Derek's loft."

The sheriff nods immediately, almost too eagerly but Derek figures he's just happy that Stiles is actually talking to him rather than being scared of him. Stiles turns his attention back to Derek, looking up at him expectantly, and Derek can't help the proud smile that spreads across his lips. Stiles is doing a lot more than he'd asked him to and his heart pretty much swells with joy.

"I'll get our shoes," he says, mainly to Stiles but he's loud enough for Noah to hear. "Will you be okay here?"

Stiles nods, and Derek takes that as his cue to leave. He's not gone for more than a couple of minutes but when he returns, the atmosphere has improved. Neither of them have moved, but Derek is sure that they've talked some more because the scent of fear has faded a little bit - it's still there, but much less noticeable.

Stiles and Derek both put their shoes on, and it's then that Stiles migrates closer to Derek. Derek places his hands gently on each of the boy's shoulders and smiles (maybe a little awkwardly) at the sheriff. "Ready to go?" he asks Stiles.

Stiles hums out a _yes_ so, with a - still awkward - wave goodbye to the sheriff, they both head for the Camaro.


	5. This Old Heart, Darling, Is Weak For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey," Isaac says back and wow Stiles has missed his voice. It's so soft and familiar and Stiles remembers the times where they'd just sit and talk for hours, about nothing and everything and that was like an escape for both of them, a time for them not to be the human and the werewolf and to just be themselves. Isaac's cheeks are tinged red and he looks so shy, grin reduced to a timid smile as if he's decided that he probably looks a bit manic for smiling so much.
> 
> It's calm, really, unexpectedly calm and Stiles is enjoying it.
> 
> And then it isn't.

Stiles can handle Isaac.

He's the literal definition of a puppy. He's full of excitement and, once they'd gotten past their differences, Stiles and Isaac had begun to grow close. Isaac's someone that Stiles can just hang around with who won't abandon him for a girlfriend (*cough*  _Scott_ *cough*). He's a sweetheart, deep down, once he actually begins to trust you, and he certainly trusts Stiles.

So, yeah, Stiles can _definitely_ handle Isaac.

At least, better than he can handle Scott. Hopefully.

He's not sure he's managed to convince Derek of that, though, because Derek's been glancing worriedly at him every so often for the whole car ride, as if he's a ticking time bomb that's ready to go off at any moment. Which is complete rubbish. He's in control of his own emotions - he'll be _fiiine_.

Probably.

Okay, maybe he's a _little_ scared, but that's because he has no idea how Isaac is going to react. This is the first time they'll be seeing each other in a _very_ long time - even if it doesn't seem like long for Stiles (it's weird, part of him feels like he actually hasn't seen Isaac in months, but the other part of him is convinced that he saw Isaac just a couple of days ago, at most, and it's an unsettling sensation in the pit of his stomach). Derek's probably warned him off of physical contact, but he can still say things: like what he can smell. He hasn't asked Derek if Isaac will be able to smell it - well, that's kind of dumb; he will be able to smell it, but Stiles hasn't asked Derek if he'll question it, realise it's something bad or if he'll do what Scott did and completely overlook (oversmell?) it. He doesn't want to bring it up now, though, because the atmosphere is calm and he wants to keep it that way.

"Stop it," he finally says, unable to deal with the looks Derek keeps sending him. It's not vicious or angry - actually, it's a bit pathetic and he winces internally at the sound of his own voice.

Derek freezes, eyes widening ever-so-slightly and he looks like a deer caught in headlights for a split second before, classic Derek-style, he covers it up with a furrow of his eyebrows and a small frown, feigning confusion. "Stop what?"

Stiles pouts. "Stop looking at me like that." Derek continues to look confused, so Stiles sighs. It's like Derek thinks he's some porcelain doll that'll shatter at any given time - which is not true. "Derek, I'm not gonna have a breakdown at any sudden moment."

For a second, Stiles thinks he's read this entire thing wrong because Derek hesitates, and maybe he hadn't been worried at all and it was something else, something that Stiles is sure he won't like. But then Derek's facade drops, and he frowns, face filling with guilt. "Sorry." He glances at Stiles again, looking even more guilty - if possible. Guilty is not a good look on Derek, causing heartbreak in those on the receiving end and, in this instance, Stiles is on the receiving end. "I'm just worried."

"I know," Stiles says, and he softens. "But you don't have to be. I'll tell you if I'm struggling."

Derek nods, seeming to relax a little. Stiles hopes he hasn't upset him. He's grateful that Derek is worried, he really is, but he doesn't _want_ Derek to worry. He's probably got more important things to do than care for a teenage boy and Derek's been doing enough for him as it is.

The rest of the car ride is silent, but it's comfortable, not awkward. Stiles is slumped in his seat, attempting to memorise the route to Derek's loft as they drive through the streets. It's easier than he'd expected it to be and he's pretty sure he's memorised it first try when they pull up outside the building. Stiles just stares at it. It's tall, dark, intimidating - in fact, it's basically Derek in building-form. But, also like Derek, it's oddly welcoming and Stiles can't help but feel drawn to it, like it's a safe place and he feels entranced.

"Is Isaac definitely in there?"

Derek turns his head to face him, and nods. "Is that still okay? He knows we're coming, I can ask him to make himself scarce, if you want." Stiles sends Derek a look as if to say that he already knows what the answer will be and Derek just sighs in defeat. "Alright, come on then."

It takes a while to climb the stairs and, when they reach the top, Stiles is - quite embarrassingly - maybe gasping for breath (just a little). Derek just chuckles at him, low enough that he probably doesn't expect Stiles to hear but Stiles does. His heart flutters inside his chest - he just made Derek Hale laugh - though he doesn't mention it, for the sake of Derek's dignity (but if Derek's flushed cheeks and the way he ducks his head are anything to go by, he knows that Stiles heard).

As soon as they step through the door, they're met by Isaac, who's standing at a sofa a few feet away, and there's silence apart from the sound of Derek pulling the door shut behind him. Stiles kind of just freezes, staring at Isaac and Isaac stares back, and Stiles feels Derek move up behind him, as if he's ready to step in front of Stiles and protect him at any needed moment.

As if he thinks Isaac is dangerous.

This is _weird_ , though. Stiles doesn't know how to feel. Now that the adrenaline from the night before is beginning to wear off, he's a bit calmer now, not as easily scared (he's still scared, and there's still no way he'll let anybody that isn't Derek anywhere near him but at least he's not falling into a panic attack at the presence of someone else), and he feels this weird pull towards Isaac, almost as if he wants to just go over there and hug him and just feel safe because Isaac means safe (but Scott means safe, too, more safe than Isaac so why hadn't Stiles felt like this when seeing Scott last night? Maybe he's scared of rejection from Scott more than he is from anyone else. Scott's his best friend, he can't risk losing him) but he also doesn't want to go anywhere near him because a small, tiny part of his brain is telling him that Isaac means _danger_ and, despite the fact that it is a tiny part of him, it's controlling him and he couldn't move closer, even if he wanted to.

But he still manages to mumble, "Hi," a lot more shy than it is awkward, and Isaac's just staring him down, eyes narrowed as if he's unsure whether Stiles is actually real or if he's just a hallucination, and it's making him nervous, heart thrumming, but it's not a bad nervous, more as if he's awaiting what's going to happen than actual _fear_. Isaac's grinning at him, though, looking excited just to see him and it makes Stiles smile a little, too.

"Hey," Isaac says back and _wow_ Stiles has missed his voice. It's so soft and familiar and Stiles remembers the times where they'd just sit and talk for hours, about nothing and everything and that was like an escape for both of them, a time for them not to be the _human_ and the _werewolf_ and to just be themselves. Isaac's cheeks are tinged red and he looks so _shy_ , grin reduced to a timid smile as if he's decided that he probably looks a bit manic for smiling so much.

It's calm, really, unexpectedly calm and Stiles is enjoying it.

And then it isn't.

He actually forgets that Derek is standing right behind him until there's a sudden hand on his arm. He doesn't flinch, but then the grip on his arm tightens uncomfortably and he goes to pull away, sneaking a glance behind him at Derek, who's glaring almost threateningly at Isaac. Stiles's attempts at pulling away are futile, Derek's grip only tightening further so he kind of just stops, hoping this does not go wrong - but it probably will.

He turns back to look at Isaac, whose smile has dropped and his brows are furrowed, as if he's trying to figure something out. Isaac tilts his head, looking - somehow - even more like a puppy than before and it's actually adorable. "You smell weird," Isaac states, face scrunching up as he sniffs the air and takes a step closer. Stiles instinctively counters him, taking a step backwards and, in the process, moving himself closer to Derek, his back against Derek's chest and, okay, Stiles doesn't think there's blood making it to his hand anymore because, _ow_ , Derek manages to tighten his grip _again_ and it's really beginning to hurt now. "Why do you smell like that?"

He sounds worried, and Stiles is only slightly relieved by the fact that he doesn't know _what_ he's smelling. Honestly, he thought it would've faded by now - why the hell can they all still smell it?! But now Isaac is going to ask questions. He'll most likely go to Scott and, between them, they'll easily figure it out. Scott may be oblivious most of the time but he can be smart when he wants to be, and Isaac isn't exactly dumb, either. Stiles will have no chance at keeping this secret if Isaac mentions it to Scott, because Scott will never let it go. As soon as he's worried, he has to keep trying to figure things out until he finds a solution and Stiles has been on the receiving end of that more times than he wants to have been.

"Isaac," Derek says, voice a low growl behind Stiles and it sounds like a warning, almost like a threat and, okay, what is going on?

Isaac flinches at Derek's tone of voice, but he doesn't back down. His eyes glow gold, shining and concerned, darting between Derek and Stiles. "I don't- Stiles, are you okay? I mean, obviously other than-"

" _Isaac_!" Derek snaps, actually growling this time, a loud rumble that Stiles can swear he physically feels, and even Stiles flinches (he's pretty sure that he can feel Derek compose himself behind him at that, one arm slinking protectively against his wait, pulling him closer, and Stiles can't deny that it does make him feel safer. But he doesn't understand why Derek's reacting like this, it's way too exaggerated; they'd agreed that Stiles would tell him if he's uncomfortable and, okay, he doesn't necessarily want to be in this conversation but Derek's trying to scare Isaac into stopping and that is not right). Isaac whimpers, head dropping as he shuffles backwards, away from Stiles and Derek.

"S-Sorry," he mumbles, voice full of guilt and it makes Stiles stomach lurch with sadness because now he's scared, and it's Derek's fault but can he really be angry if Derek's just trying to protect him? He should be grateful, and he is, but Derek should know that it is not acceptable to scare the betas into submission. They don't do that in this pack. They're different; their _pack_ is different.

"Isaac, it's okay," he says because, honestly, it is. Isaac's clearly worried, so he's curious and that's not his fault. Okay, Stiles would really rather nobody ever find out but, even if they do, it still doesn't change the fact that it _happened_. Whether or not other people know, the memories are going to haunt him, going to plague his nightmares, so if Isaac's curiosity inevitably leads to him finding out, then he won't be angry.

At least, not at Isaac. The only person he can be angry at is himself; he's the only one to blame, he's the one who let it happen, who should have stopped it from happening in the first place. But he hadn't been strong enough, and that's his own fault.

His words prompt Isaac to look up, but as soon as Isaac sneaks a glance at Derek, he whimpers again, backing away. Stiles wants to look behind himself, to see what the _hell_ Derek is doing to make Isaac react like this, but he can't take his eyes off of the terrified little puppy who is still taking cautious steps away from them, seemingly travelling towards the staircase not far behind him.

"Isaac-" Stiles begins but before he can even think of what he's going to say, Isaac has disappeared up the stairs, out of sight.

Stiles turns to Derek just in time to see red eyes and fangs disappearing. He rips himself away from Derek, Derek's hand finally letting go of his arm and Stiles is sure it's going to bruise soon. He stares at Derek, feelings of betrayal filling him. "What the _fuck_ , Derek?!"

Derek's previously (mostly) calm expression drops, looking simply confused, like he has no idea why Stiles is angry. "What?" he questions, and Stiles just scoffs because Derek doesn't seem to think he's done anything wrong.

His glare hardens at Derek's increasing confusion. "You can't just- Derek, you can't _do_ that." Derek just continues to stare, his furrowed brows telling Stiles that Derek still doesn't understand that he can't just scare Isaac into leaving if he does something that makes Stiles _slightly_ uncomfortable. "You can't just go all alpha on someone if they make me feel even a _little_ uneasy. Isaac's pack, Derek, and that is _not_ okay."

Derek has the _audacity_ to look offended, as if he'd expected Stiles to find that kind of behaviour acceptable. His eyebrows raise (and, okay, why the _hell_ are his eyebrows so good at conveying his emotions?!) and he says, quite unexpectedly loudly, "Stiles, he was _scaring_ you."

As if that makes it okay.

"And you thought you'd fix it by _scaring him_ into submission?!"

It's ironic, actually, that Derek seems to think that he can protect Stiles from people who are scaring him by scaring those people away. Isaac hadn't been doing anything wrong, Stiles had specifically said that he'd tell Derek if he wanted out, or if he needed Isaac gone, but he hadn't said anything which meant that he could _handle_ it. But Derek hadn't listened.

Stiles doesn't normally get this angry - he tends to conceal his emotions a majority of the time by rambling uncontrollably until he can't physically breathe and, by that point, the other person in the conversation probably doesn't even care anymore. It's his natural defence, there to protect his emotions, keep them hidden and therefore hide some of his emotional vulnerability (because, let's face it, Stiles is exceptionally emotional pretty much _all_ of the time) and sometimes he can't stop if, even if he wants to. But, seriously, how in the hell can Derek think this is right? He must have had some sort of crisis whilst Stiles was gone that made him think that violence is an acceptable way to deal with pack because Derek was supposed to have gotten past that phase a _long_ time ago, hasn't been like this in over a year. The only time he ever wolfs-out on the betas is to force them to shift back to human if they lose control, not to force them to listen to him. Especially not Isaac (Stiles used to wonder if the Derek that had turned Isaac - the one that _did_ think that anger and fear were ways of getting people to obey - ever reminded Isaac of his dad. But he used to push those thoughts away - Isaac was okay now, safe, with an entire pack to protect him and Derek would never deliberately hurt him). 

It makes Stiles feel weak, too, weaker than he already knows he is. He'd have said if it had gotten too much, and he'd told that to Derek but Derek hadn't listened and he'd taken the situation into his own hands, deciding for himself what was too much for Stiles and when to intervene. Sure, Stiles has a habit of pushing himself beyond his ability, working himself way past exhaustion to the point that he pretty much resembles death and everyone has to literally force him to stop - and even that doesn't normally work - but he's had enough panic attacks in the last twelve hours to know that he does _not_ want another one and he knows for a fact that, at the first sign that another panic attack was beginning, he'd have told Derek that he needed out, needed Isaac to stop. But Derek hadn't given him that chance, the chance to figure out what his own boundaries are, how far he can push himself before he needs to stop. For all he knows, he could have made it through that whole conversation fine, but now he doesn't know, he doesn't know what could have triggered him, and all because Derek clearly doesn't trust him to decide for himself when he's had enough.

Okay, Stiles knows he's overreacting, and he should just leave it at this, but Isaac had been terrified and, sure, it's probably an alpha-beta thing but that still doesn't make it okay; at least, not to him. Like, has Derek had some sort of brain melt? Has he forgotten what happened to Isaac with his father? Violent, adult males do not go well with someone who has been abused by a violent, adult male, even if that someone is a werewolf and the adult in question is their alpha. Isaac's not immune just because he's supernatural; Stiles knows that some things still scare him, like sudden raised voices and, most of all - and also something that Stiles is sure Isaac will never get over - small, enclosed spaces.

He doesn't realise that he's trembling until Derek's hands are on his shoulders, grounding him and he looks up at Derek, whose eyes are glowing red, filled with _guilt_ and _concern_. "Okay," Derek says, "I'm sorry," and he sounds genuine, as if he really is apologetic, but Stiles is pretty sure that he's not apologising for scaring Isaac and rather for upsetting Stiles, like upsetting Stiles matters more to him than seeing Isaac like that, than being the one to put him in that position.

Stiles doesn't even realise that he's crying until Derek moves his hands to his cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the falling tears, eyes still shining red and Stiles wonders why his wolf is trying to take control with so much strength that Derek can't even hide his eyes, that the wolf is so powerful that even Derek is struggling to keep control. But he doesn't comment on it, and instead lets it all drop though he will be making sure that he makes Derek understand that he cannot do that and he'll make Derek apologise to Isaac - _and mean it_ \- but he'll do that all later because he's pretty sure if he tries to continue this argument right now, he'll end up in tears.

(And why the hell is he even crying? This argument is not one that should make him cry, he should be yelling, defending Isaac until he makes Derek understand. But he can't even do that.)

*********

They're on top of Derek's bed now. Derek's leaning his back against the headboard and Stiles is sat in front of him, between Derek's legs, back against Derek's chest. Stiles is just playing with Derek's hands and Derek has his chin resting on Stiles's shoulder, watching with a fond smile. Stiles is peaceful here, it's just Derek and him, nothing and no one else, nothing to scare him or worry him.

Just the two of them.

Their argument from earlier has been long forgotten, mostly. Stiles has calmed down, but Derek can't help but let his mind wander. What else happened to Stiles? There's only so much that his nose can tell him and a _lot_ that it can't. How many times had it happened? How many times had Stiles had to go through that without any idea if he'd ever be free again? And all because the pack hadn't searched hard enough- because _Derek_ hadn't searched hard enough. He had been somewhere, and they hadn't found him, they hadn't saved him, hadn't protected him from this like they should have. His mate is hurt and it's his fault. And, sure, Stiles has no _conscious_ memory of it - at least, not yet - but that doesn't make it any better. The memories can still haunt his dreams and any time there's a sudden movement or loud noise, Stiles flinches and, despite how much he tries to hide it, Derek notices. Every. Single. Time. He's still terrified of physical contact with anyone that isn't Derek (Derek's not complaining for now - at least he can protect him and comfort him) and Derek knows that, if he was to bring up the topic of going to see Scott, Stiles would _freak_.

There's nothing Derek can do, though. Keeping control of his wolf is hard enough with just _that smell_ that he can't ignore, but when he sees Stiles scared, or crying, it literally hurts to try to keep control, all the while trying to calm Stiles down. But he can't let the wolf take over, he won't because then he won't be able to stop himself and he knows exactly what it will do. His wolf keeps clawing at him, trying to take over so it can hunt down whatever did this to its mate and rip it _limb_ from _limb_. But he has to push the wolf away. Stiles wouldn't want that, no matter what had happened to him and Derek, in turn, can't do that to him, he has to respect what Stiles would want.

Besides, he can't leave Stiles alone.

He just wishes he could do _something_ to help but he _can't_. He can't help Stiles, can't make anything better. All he _can_ do is hold Stiles close, calm him down if he panics, warn people off if they're scaring him (with words, not with fear, he now knows). He can't do anything to actually _help_.

For once, Derek feels powerless.

He doesn't notice that he's inadvertently rubbing his cheek along Stiles's neck until the boy tenses up in front of him. "What are you doing?" Stiles's voice is small, nervous almost and Derek freezes, knowing he's caught but he can't find it in himself to pull away. 

"Um..." Derek gulps, fearing that he's scared Stiles and he's not sure what to say. He may not have been aware of what he'd been doing _when_ he'd been doing it, but he knows exactly what his wolf had been trying to do. He just doesn't know how to explain it to Stiles without freaking him out.

"Were you... _scent marking_ me?"

Well, at least that fixes that dilemma. Surprisingly, though, Stiles doesn't sound disgusted like Derek expects him to. He sounds genuinely curious, a little shocked, but definitely nothing negative. It doesn't do much to ease Derek's nerves, though, because now he has to explain _why_.

"Uh, yeah," he admits. His cheeks flush red and he won't be surprised if Stiles can feel the heat that's undoubtedly radiating from them. "I was just..." He trails off, but Stiles doesn't mention it, just waiting patiently for an explanation and Derek can hear Stiles heart pounding from what he's sure is anticipation. "I was trying to make you smell a bit more like me. To try and cover it up."

He knows he doesn't need to explain any more than that, and he expects Stiles to just pull away a little because he's just brought up an extremely sensitive topic _and_ he's just been caught _rubbing his face_ across Stiles's neck. That's something natural to werewolves, not humans and Stiles may be his mate but this isn't something that Derek expects Stiles to understand.

But, of course, it's Stiles and Stiles seems to understand _everything_ that gets thrown at him and, although Derek expects him to be weirded out, Stiles obviously _isn't_ weirded out. Werewolf stuff never has and probably never will weird him out. He tends to find it fascinating which, in turn, fascinates Derek because Stiles was always calmer about this than Scott, despite the fact that _Scott_ is the werewolf in this situation.

What's more (Stiles apparently just loves to be surprising) is that Stiles seems to _like_ it because he relaxes impossibly more against Derek's chest. Derek doesn't move, won't risk the possibility that he could be reading this situation wrong so he's still, until Stiles says, "Thank you."

Derek smiles softly, and presses his nose back into the juncture where Stiles's neck meets his shoulder and just inhales, focusing on the smell of Stiles and nothing else. He smells of cinnamon and coffee and _home_ , and Derek just revels in it; it makes him dizzy and it's so perfect and he wants Stiles to be his so bad, to be able to call him _mine_ but he can't. Stiles is too young to deal with that kind of pressure, he has to choose Derek for himself, shouldn't feel obligated to be with him just because they're mates. It has to be Stiles's choice, he has to decide to want to be with him and then maybe, _maybe_ Derek will tell him they're mates. But no sooner, if he can help it.

Derek prays that one day Stiles will accept him.

That doesn't mean he can't enjoy moments like this, though. Moments when Stiles is completely relaxed and it's because of Derek, because Derek makes him feel safe and protected. And that's enough for Derek for now.


	6. Place Your Head On My Beating Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not long before Stiles falls asleep, which, whilst it surprises Derek, it's nice. Even though Stiles is generally good at hiding his emotions, he seems so much calmer when he's sleeping (well, until the nightmares start). It makes Derek relax, too, which is rare - even now, when he's got an entire pack around him, when he's probably the safest he's ever been.
> 
> Which, granted, is never very safe.

It's not long before Stiles falls asleep, which, whilst it surprises Derek, it's nice. Even though Stiles is generally good at hiding his emotions, he seems so much calmer when he's sleeping (well, until the nightmares start). It makes Derek relax, too, which is rare - even now, when he's got an entire pack around him, when he's probably the safest he's ever been.

Which, granted, is never very safe.

He sighs to himself. He should probably take this time to apologise to Isaac, even though he still doesn't think he did anything wrong. Isaac had been scaring Stiles so Derek had warned him off - it's not as if he physically assaulted him, is it? Derek knows he'd scared Stiles too, though, felt him literally flinch away from him for the first time in a very long time, which is probably a reason for Stiles freaking out and Derek kind of hates himself for it because if he keeps that up, Stiles might stop feeling safe around him and he can't let that happen.

So he says, quietly enough that he won't wake Stiles but loud enough that he knows that Isaac will hear him, "Isaac, come down here." It sounds kind of ominous, even for Derek but, then again, that _is_ kind of his forte. He hears hesitant movement upstairs and knows that Isaac is coming down, so he slowly and carefully moves himself from behind Stiles. He gently lays Stiles down, laying him on top of the comforter and watches as Stiles shifts and squirms but doesn't wake.

He can hear Isaac coming down the stairs and so heads towards the living room, taking a seat on the sofa. Isaac appears then at the bottom of the stairs and the look on his face is enough to make Derek's stomach churn with guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy who's run away in fear and you've told to _come here!_ in the angriest possible voice. Maybe Stile was right; Isaac looks terrified, just like when-

Oh, _shit_.

Derek's pretty sure he's figured out why Stiles reacted the way he did. He wouldn't have been so defensive if it had been anybody other than Isaac and Derek honestly can't believe he'd forgotten about Isaac's father. Sure, Derek's never been exactly _gentle_ with Isaac, and Isaac's been okay for a while, but he's always been careful, always tried to remember that Isaac has limits; the bite isn't a cure-all. He realises that he must have looked terrifying (especially to someone that already struggles with adult authority and angry adult males) because, honestly, if the anger that had surged through him when he'd heard Stiles's heartbeat hammering in his chest and smelled the fear radiating from him had been reflected on his face, then he'd probably have been terrified, too.

Isaac visibly gulps, frozen in spot and he's clearly avoiding Derek's gaze which makes Derek want to whine because he's _sorry_ , he forgot and he's an idiot and he probably deserves this but he doesn't want Isaac to be scared of him.

"Isaac-"

"It's fine," Isaac quickly interrupts, even though the slight tremor in his voice tells Derek that it _isn't_ fine. "I know I was prying, and I shouldn't have been, and I'm sorry."

Isaac is submitting, obeying Derek without at least questioning him first and it's _wrong_. This just isn't Isaac, and it's Derek's fault.

It's always Derek's fault.

"Can I go now?"

Derek just blinks. Isaac actually wants to leave, doesn't even want Derek to apologise. Derek knows this will wear off in a couple of hours, that Isaac's probably just overridden with emotion now that Stiles is back, but that doesn't make this any easier to handle. He shakes his head and says, "No, you can't. Come sit down."

Hesitantly, Isaac moves over to join him, but it's clear he's sitting as far away from Derek as he can. "Isaac, I'm sorry," Derek says, because he _is_ \- he isn't one for apologising unless he genuinely means it and he deems it necessary, and even Isaac seems surprised at the apology, his head snapping up and eyes wide as he finally catches Derek's gaze. Derek continues, now that he knows that he's got Isaac's full attention, "You were scaring Stiles and I overreacted, so I'm sorry." Isaac nods slowly, and it seems like he believes Derek (but it still does nothing to settle the guilt churning in Derek's stomach). He breathes out slowly. "But I need you to listen to this - carefully."

"Okay," Isaac says without any hesitation, like he knows that this is about Stiles and Derek knows that Isaac would do anything for Stiles.

They all would.

Derek nods, signalling that he's about to continue. "What you were talking about earlier, about what you could smell - I need you to drop it." Isaac's eyes narrow, and he's clearly confused but he doesn't look like he's going to argue. "Just... don't talk to Stiles about it unless he brings it up first, and don't try to figure it out, okay?"

"Okay," Isaac promises, nodding again, and Derek figures that he didn't have to actually tell Isaac any of this, but he had to make sure. "Is he okay?"

Isaac's question is quiet and full of worry, and Derek just sends him a knowing look. Isaac drops his head and sighs, not saying anything more and instead he just makes his way back upstairs. Derek watches on with a small frown. He can't help but feel bad for Isaac, he must be desperate to see Stiles - hell, _everybody_ must. Nobody in the pack has held an actual conversation with Stiles except Derek, and Derek is still questioning why Stiles is here and not with Scott. Sure, he and Stiles have grown closer in the last couple of years than Derek has with anyone else, but Stiles actually trusts Derek to _protect_ him and that's surprising because doesn't he know that Derek breaks everything he cares about?

Yet another reason he won't tell Stiles that they're mates. Derek will just destroy him.

Stiles is still asleep, the sound of his slow and steady heartbeat filling Derek's ears, so he knows there's no nightmares yet. Derek decides to stay where he is, let Stiles sleep on his own and see if that does anything to affect the nightmares because Derek being there doesn't seem to stop them. He checks his phone and sees that he's got a text from Scott.

_From: Scott - 10:34 am  
hows he doin??_

Derek just sighs - Scott already knows what the answer will be.

_To: Scott - 10:47 am  
Not good. Can't explain. You should try talking to him. He managed a conversation with his dad on his own. Might be okay with you, but don't get your hopes up. He's struggling with Isaac._

He feels like she should be telling Scott everything, considering Scott would normally know everything, but he won't. He doesn't think Stiles would want him to say anything, even though Derek hasn't actually asked him.

_From: Scott - 10:49 am  
i cant handle seeing him like that again. ill wait til hes ready. isaac told me u snapped and even scared stiles. he heard u two arguing. u cant do that around stiles, gotta be more careful. ur the only one he trusts._

Derek frowns guiltily. He knows he needs to _not snap_ around Stiles, but he can't help it sometimes. He sees his mate terrified or hurt and his wolf just takes over, automatically warning off whatever is causing the distress. He can't control it and that should worry him but, if it keeps Stiles safe, does it really matter?

_To: Scott - 10:50 am  
I know. I messed up, it was stupid. Won't happen again. You should find a way to talk to him that's easier for both of you. He misses you, even if it doesn't look like it. He needs to know you and the pack still care, he won't listen to me._

As Derek awaits a reply, he tunes back in on the sound of Stiles's heartbeat - still slow and calm, as are, hopefully, his dreams. He sinks back into the sofa and tries to figure out how he should be handling this. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks that he should send Stiles back to his dad, let Scott and the sheriff take care of him. They'd do a better job than Derek ever can, and Stiles would ultimately be safer with them. Derek is violent, even when he doesn't necessarily mean to be, and Stiles can't handle violence right now, so is Stiles really better with Derek over his friends and family?

Either way, Stiles doesn't want to go, so Derek's just going to have to be careful.

His phone buzzes and, as expected, it's Scott.

_From: Scott - 10:54 am  
ill try but i dont want to push him. can u find out if hell see me? if not ill figure something out. tell him i miss him but not to push himself if he cant handle seeing me. im ok waiting._

Even _Derek_ can't help but smile at that. Scott's an amazing friend, a great leader and Derek's honestly surprised that Scott ever agreed to join his pack. They're such different people and, sure, they have some similarities but Derek never would have expected Scott to ever want to join forces with someone like himself.

He returns to his bedroom with lack of anything better to do. He hasn't slept much for a _long time_ so he should probably try to sleep for a while (even though he doesn't feel all that tired).

It's more just an excuse to cuddle with Stiles, if he's honest.

He lies down next to Stiles, hesitant to actually touch him in case it freaks Stiles out. But his wolf is desperate to _hold_ , to _protect_ , and he can't resist so he moves closer, wrapping an arm around Stiles's waist, his chest pressed to Stiles's back. Stiles stirs, turning slightly as he peeks an eye open at Derek and Derek's heart stops momentarily, expecting rejection. But Stiles smiles timidly, and Derek realises that he's probably not awake enough to be thinking any major thoughts. Stiles nestles closer to Derek, closing his eyes again and Derek, satisfied, does the same.


	7. Fall Into These Arms Of Mine, I'll Catch You Every Time

Stiles is - pleasantly - surprised to wake up naturally and not to a nightmare. He's warm, despite not being under the quilt, and it's then that he realises that he's cuddled up against Derek, Derek's arm around his waist and nose pressed against Stiles's neck. He doesn't even notice he'd been tensed up until he automatically relaxes back into Derek at the realisation that he's completely safe. He could stay like this forever, relaxed and calm and _protected_ , just himself and Derek.

Then he remembers Isaac upstairs and that doesn't make him _scared_ , per se, but he does wonder if Derek has apologised yet, and if Isaac is no longer scared, if he's okay again. He doesn't want to see Isaac any more than he wants to see Scott, but he still cares, and he still misses him.

He misses them all.

"Stop it." The voice surprises Stiles, but it doesn't quite make him jump.

He turns his head to glance at Derek, whose eyes are closed but he's clearly awake. "Stop what?"

"Stop _thinking_ so much. It's not good for you." Derek sounds more concerned than annoyed, which Stiles still isn't used to. He wonders if Derek has been awake as long as he has himself, or even how _long_ Stiles has been thinking for, because he tends to get lost in thought a lot, which Derek seems to know. "Go back to sleep."

"Not tired," Stiles immediately refuses, pulling away from Derek and sitting up to prove his point. It's not entirely true, he could definitely sleep a while longer, but he actually feels like he's slept right now and if he has a nightmare, that feeling is just going to dissipate straight away.

Derek sighs and mumbles _liar_ but he opens his eyes, finally looking at Stiles. Derek still looks exhausted, Stiles notes, bags under his eyes and he seems barely awake.

"You can go back to sleep, you know," he says. He doesn't want Derek to stay awake if he's tired just to look after him. He feels guilty enough already. "I'll be fine on my own."

But Derek just shakes his head. "I'm alright," he says, and Stiles decides against arguing because he knows he won't convince Derek otherwise. Derek's just as stubborn as he is, which is saying something.

Derek sits up next to him, eyes stern and focused and, yet again, Derek seems to be studying Stiles. Stiles shifts under his gaze, and he can feel his cheeks beginning to heat up so he ducks his head to hide his face from Derek.

"I spoke to Isaac," Derek says after a while of silence. Stiles turns his whole body to face Derek, legs crossed and hands resting on his lap, and he's intrigued. Derek looks sheepish, shy almost, which is plain weird, and Stiles begins to wonder if maybe it hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped it would. "I apologised, and..." Derek trails off, so Stiles raises an eyebrow, signalling for him to continue. He could swear he sees Derek's cheeks flush but he's probably just seeing things. "I'm sorry about scaring you, too. And for forgetting about Isaac's dad. I don't know how that happened."

Stiles can't help the small smile that stretches his lips. "Aww, the Sourwolf actually has _feelings_. Who would've guessed?" Derek pouts, showing his typical half-glare, but he seems slightly amused. For a moment, Stiles doesn't understand why, but then he realises that he just said something that he would have said _before_ all this had happened, not now. He feels kind of weird about it, as if maybe he shouldn't have said it and he averts his gaze to his hands on his lap.

Derek doesn't mention it, though, which Stiles is grateful for. He doesn't want to have a conversation about any of this right now; he's hoping to put it off for as long as possible. He does say, "Thank you for apologising," however, and quickly adds, "and understanding," then, "and for helping," and then, "Actually, thanks for-"

" _Stiles_."

Stiles stops abruptly and nods, falling silent again. He focuses more on his surroundings instead. He can't hear any noise coming from upstairs, so he begins to wonder what Isaac is doing. In fact, what is Scott doing? What is his dad doing? What about Lydia, and Jackson, and Allison, and-

" _Stiles_!" That brings Stiles back to the present. He blinks himself back into focus, glaring at Derek accusingly.

"You keep zoning out," Derek states simply, eyes narrowed slightly and eyebrows furrowed. "It's weird."

"Sorry," Stiles mumbles quietly. Honestly, Derek should probably be used to this by now - it's one of Stiles's extremely annoying traits that pretty much _everyone_ he has ever met has complained about. They fall into another silence, and it's comfortable until Stiles realises that the only sounds that he can hear are the sound of his heart beating and the sound of both of their breathing, and he shifts uncomfortably. "Is Isaac okay now?" he asks, desperate to break the silence.

Derek hesitates before replying. "I think so," he says, but Stiles can tell that he seems unsure.

Stiles goes to reply but then a sudden twinge of discomfort pulses through his chest and he inhales sharply. Derek's eyebrows furrow, eyes glistening in what Stiles can only identify as concern.

"What? What's wrong?" Derek rushes out, and Stiles doesn't think he'll ever get used to Derek openly caring about him.

"Nothing, just hurts a little," Stiles grits out, though by a little he really means _a lot_ because _holy shit_ that's painful and now it's hard to even take a deep breath, and then he feels Derek take his hand, intertwining their fingers, and then-

Then it stops.

Stiles breathes out slowly, peeking open an eye that he hadn't realised he'd closed. He looks down at where their hands are connected, and it's only now that he notices the black veins spreading up Derek's arm and _oh_ , that makes sense.

"Have you been doing that this _whole_ time?" he asks, wondering how he'd never noticed it. Derek nods sheepishly. Well, _that_ explains why it hasn't been hurting like it probably should. Stiles's first instinct to get angry and to tell Derek to _stop doing that_ because he's just causing himself unnecessary pain and, in the process, he's weakening himself and that's dangerous but, honestly, if Derek's been protecting him from that pain this whole night then he can only be grateful, because he does not think he'll be able to handle it if Derek stops. "Thank you," he breathes weakly.

Derek doesn't reply to that, and instead asks, "Can I see?" and motions to what's under the hoodie that Stiles is wearing.

Stiles nods before he even thinks because he trusts Derek and there's no reason why he shouldn't let Derek look. So Derek moves his hands to the hem of Stiles's hoodie, but when he grabs on as if he's about to lift it, Stiles tenses, hands automatically moving to push Derek's hands away. Derek pulls his hands away before he gets the chance, clearly noticing that something's wrong immediately, eyes full of worry, and Stiles can only stare back, breath caught in his throat. He doesn't know what just happened; one second he's fine and then Derek tries to take off his hoodie and his body is telling him that he _cannot_ let that happen. He takes a shuddering breath, and Derek's still just staring at him, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

"Sorry," Stiles mumbles, trying for a small laugh to ease the tension, but his hands are still shaking and he hopes that Derek can't see that (even though that's really not possible). "I'll, um..."

He doesn't know what to say, so instead, he just pulls the hoodie off himself. Derek leans back a little, eyes scanning over Stiles's torso. It's battered and bruised, barely any clear skin visible, and Stiles can't bear to look at it himself - so he doesn't, instead keeping his eyes on Derek's.

Stiles feels a sudden warmth on his chest and he glances down to see Derek's palm pressed flat across right where his heart is. His heart flutters, and he wouldn't be surprised if Derek feels it. Derek's hands move to Stiles's forearms, which are covered in barely-healed lacerations that look as if Stiles has been dragging his nails across his arms, and not lightly. Unintentionally, Stiles's hands clench into fists at the thought. Derek rubs his thumbs slowly across the cuts, the action sending tingles up Stiles's arms and he can't help the soft smile that plays on his lips.

"You can have a shower, if you want," Derek suggests, eyebrows raising as he looks up at Stiles. "I'll get you some clean clothes."

Stiles nods; a shower will be calming, and _warm_ , and the only problem is that, once he's in, he'll never want to come back out. Derek nods too, then, and makes his way over to a set of drawers at the other side of the room. Stiles blinks, watching him, and he definitely still isn't used to Derek having somewhere to actually live that isn't a burned-down house or a train car, let alone a proper _bedroom_.

Derek picks out another hoodie (how many does he actually have? it's not as if he ever wears them) and another pair of bottoms, both of which look just as comfortable as the clothes Stiles is already wearing. "There's a towel in the bathroom," Derek says with a small smile, handing the clothes to Stiles. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you," Stiles mumbles, smiling just a little, too, and trying not to make it seem too forced. Derek shows him to the bathroom, and tells him to, "Take as long as you need."

Stiles nods gratefully, then disappears inside. Derek's heart skips a beat when the lock clicks shut, but he tries to convince himself that _it's just a shower, Stiles will be fine_. But now Derek can't see him, can only rely on his hearing and sense of smell and he'd much rather just have Stiles in his arms. He knows he'll have to get used to this, though, can't let his paranoia get the better of him. It's a wonder Stiles has stayed as long as he has.

Derek calls Isaac downstairs, hoping to see how Stiles will react if Isaac is in the room, if he'll be okay with it. Within a few seconds, Isaac appears at the top of the stairs, peeking down almost hesitantly. Derek motions for him to come down. Isaac pauses, but doesn't try to argue and instead does as he's told, descending the stairs.

"What's up?" he asks and, much to Derek's dismay, he still sounds scared of him.

"Nothing," Derek says, deciding not to bring that up. "I just need you to stay down here for a while. I want to see how Stiles reacts to you being here."

"Okay," Isaac agrees, once again not arguing, and migrates to the sofa, where he proceeds to produce a book from god knows where. Derek just stares for a moment as Isaac curls up and begins to read, and then his phone begins to vibrate in his pocket - Stiles's dad is calling.

Momentarily, Derek debates ignoring it; today has been going calmly and the sheriff is no doubt going to ruin that. But, Derek figures it could be something important, so he reluctantly answers with a low, "Hello?"

"Derek," the sheriff greets, voice sounding almost threatening, as usual, like he'd rather _not_ be talking to Derek. "How is he?"

Noah is keeping it calm, voice steady, but Derek knows he's probably as far away from calm as is possible. "He's okay, considering." He sighs deeply, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Really, though, he's not good." He hears the sheriff suck in a deep breath, but he doesn't continue to talk about it. It's not exactly an easy thing to talk about, especially when it's your own son. "Look, is there anything in particular you called to talk about, or is this just a check-up?" Derek doesn't mean to sound rude but, honestly, he's not in the mood for chit-chat right now. He's got more important things to be thinking about.

"It's just a reminder that Stiles is going to have to go back to the station to finish his interview, and to make a formal statement." Derek's jaw clenches; this will not go well. Stiles could barely handle being there the last time, and he hasn't exactly improved since then. "He's not to rush himself, but I think that the sooner he gets it over with, the better it will be for him." Mentally, Derek disagrees. He thinks that Stiles should be focusing on other things. What exactly are the police supposed to do? What did this to Stiles clearly isn't human, so the best source of help is Deaton and the pack. Making a statement isn't important - it's just a load of unnecessary stress for a boy who can't handle it. He says nothing, though, figures it isn't his place to contradict Stiles's father without Stiles's input. "And also that I managed to get his phone from the evidence room. I figured we'd all feel a whole lot more comfortable if he kept his phone on him at all times." This time, Derek mentally agrees. Sure, most of the time, Derek can use his nose. But he can't shake that helpless feeling he'd experienced, that they'd all experienced, when Stiles had disappeared. His scent had disappeared with him, and there was absolutely nothing Derek could do to find him. He wants to do everything he can to make sure that doesn't happen again.

"Okay," he says, "I'll send Isaac over to get it." At the mention of his name, Isaac looks up, confused.

"Thanks," the sheriff says. "I've got to get back to work. Let me know if anything changes."

"I will," Derek assures and, with that, he hangs up and turns to Isaac, who is still looking at him expectantly. "I need you to go to the station to get Stiles's phone." There's absolutely no chance of Derek going to pick it up. He can't leave Stiles alone, even if he could probably get back before Stiles is even out of the shower. He won't risk it.

Isaac nods slowly in understanding, though he's clearly still confused. He ditches his book on the table and stands up. "Is that all?"

Derek hesitates, then shakes his head. "No," he says, and Isaac raises his eyebrows for elaboration. "Could you check on Scott, see how he's doing? I know this is probably hard for him, and I just want to know that he's coping. I need to know that he will be ready if Stiles is ever ready."

Isaac smiles softly and, with that, he's gone and Derek is alone, left only with the sound of the shower water running.

Derek is just a bit embarrassed to admit that he kind of just stands there for a minute, feeling a bit lost. All of a sudden, it's like he has no immediate purpose. For the past 12 hours, his focus has been _Stiles_ , _Stiles_ , _Stiles_ , but now Stiles is busy and Isaac is gone so Derek is pretty much completely useless. He sits down, deciding to just wait until Stiles is out of the shower, and sneaks a glance at the book on the table; he could read it.

He's always had a thing for reading, mostly when he's feeling relaxed and at ease. It's an escape from himself, from the constant self-deprecating thoughts that circle his head. And it's an opportunity to just be someone else for a while, and to forget. So, yeah, he likes to read.

He glances over the blurb of the book.

Okay, Derek likes to read, but not this. From the few words that make up the blurb, Derek concludes that this is just a romance novel and seriously, Isaac, _what_? Derek does not do romance, and he didn't think Isaac did, either. Then again, Isaac is a mystery that Derek should probably put more effort in to figure out.

But, still, Derek isn't one for romance; when he sees Scott and Allison together, all lovey-dovey and teenager-y and weird, it makes him uncomfortable. Though Derek does know, however, that he would treat the one he loves like they are the sun because, to him, they would be (he may or may not be thinking about Stiles at this point). And, sure, he'd probably buy them cute gifts, and take them on thoughtful dates, and give them everything he possibly could.

So, yeah, Derek may be a hopeless romantic at heart, but he'll never admit it.

The shower turns off and Derek sits up straight, waiting in anticipation for Stiles. Hopefully, the shower will have made Stiles look a bit better, a bit healthier, and a bit less like death (because, no offence, but Stiles genuinely looks like he could drop dead any minute - and Derek does _not_ find that amusing to think about). Stiles's heart is steady, Derek notes, which is a good sign because it almost guarantees no panic attack and also promises that Stiles isn't in pain. Still, Derek will not let his guard down.

The sound of the lock clicking signifies that Stiles is done and Derek turns just in time to see the door opening as Stiles steps out, looking a fair bit more relaxed than he had earlier.

"I put the other clothes in the laundry basket," Stiles mumbles, running a nervous hand through his still-wet hair and Derek just nods, not trusting his voice at all because, right now, Stiles looks adorable and he fears that, if he opens his mouth, all that will come out is a squeal, and that would just be embarrassing. Stiles would never let him live it down.

So he just focuses on trying to breathe normally and Stiles pulls his (Derek's?) sleeves over his hands, smiling timidly at Derek, who realises at that point that he's just been staring at the boy, a bit like a psychopath so he clears his throat. "Are you hungry?" he asks, just now noticing that he could have actually been useful and cooked something.

Stiles nods, but quickly seems to decide that that's rude and says, "Not really." And that worries Derek a little, if not a lot, because Stiles has only eaten a couple of bites of a sandwich and honestly can't have eaten much in the past few weeks, so logic dictates that he should be starving and Derek's wolf wants to whine, to take control and fix this but there's nothing it could do to help, so he just has to agree with Stiles, can't push him because that's not fair.

"Okay," he says even though he doesn't want to, and Stiles looks more than just a little guilty. "That's fine, just... let me know if you are."

Stiles nods, averting his gaze to the ground and he still looks guilty, which Derek does _not_ like. Stiles has been acting like this whole situation is his fault, which isn't fair because he's the _victim_ here, the one who needs help, but he seems to think of himself as the problem.

Derek's not sure how to convince him otherwise.


	8. I Am Drowning, But Please Don't Save Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He turns to Stiles this time. "Lydia made you this." As he speaks, he moves closer to Stiles - which doesn't appear to negatively affect Stiles at all - until he can stop right in front of him. Stiles continues to stare but he's smiling just a little, so Derek continues to just watch. Isaac hands Stiles his phone, the charger, and the envelope. "We've all written something."
> 
> Stiles's cheeks flush red, tinging the tips of his cheeks. "Thank you," he mumbles and Isaac nods, looking almost proud.

Naturally, Derek hears Isaac before he sees him, coming up the stairs and Derek doesn't have time to warn Stiles before the door is opening and Isaac appears. Isaac freezes in the doorway at the realisation that Stiles is here and he stares at Stiles, Stiles just staring back, jaw clenching and unclenching. But he's calm, Derek notes, if not a little nervous, but it's going well (or at least as well as Derek can hope). Isaac shifts uncomfortably before pulling Stiles's phone and its charger out of his pocket. "I got the phone," he tells Derek, not even bothering to act like Stiles should be involved in this conversation.

Stiles glances at Derek, confused, as if expecting an explanation. Derek is about to explain but Isaac continues, pulling what appears to be an envelope out of the pocket of his hoodie. "And, um..." He turns to Stiles this time. "Lydia made you this." As he speaks, he moves closer to Stiles - which doesn't appear to negatively affect Stiles at all - until he can stop right in front of him. Stiles continues to stare but he's smiling just a little, so Derek continues to just watch. Isaac hands Stiles his phone, the charger, and the envelope. "We've all written something."

Stiles's cheeks flush red, tinging the tips of his cheeks. "Thank you," he mumbles and Isaac nods, looking almost proud. Isaac seems to decide that that's enough for now and disappears up the stairs, leaving Derek and Stiles in silence. Stiles just continues to stare, now at the envelope in his hand and Derek's sure he's beginning to smell sadness as Stiles clears his throat, looking over at Derek. "Why did Isaac get my phone?"

Derek still has a feeling that the sheriff has some ulterior motive regarding the phone, but he won't tell that to Stiles. "Your dad and I thought it would be safer if you kept your phone on you at all times."

Stiles nods, turning his attention back to his phone and the envelope. There's that scent of sadness again and Derek clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to just go over there and hug him because he has a feeling that Stiles needs this, need to be alone so he can read what the others have said and just think. Derek doesn't say anything more, and instead leaves for his room.

Stiles doesn't move for a little while, just continues to stare t the envelope. He wonders what could be inside - what would people have written for him? And did Isaac mean that everybody in the pack has signed it? Stiles's heart actually swells at the thought.

He only realises that Derek is gone when he finally looks up and notices that he's alone. He knows that Derek can't be far - the bedroom is only around the corner. He glances around the room, ensuring he really is alone before making his way over to the sofa. He ditches his phone and charger on the table and sits down on the sofa, pulling his legs up underneath himself.

Stiles is nervous, strangely. His hands are shaking slightly as he holds the envelope. This could be a bad idea and cause some explosion of emotions that he's not strong enough to handle. But maybe it'll help, maybe it'll make him less scared of everyone.

He doubts it, but it's possible.

But he won't know until he opens it, and he just doesn't know that he wants to. He doesn't know that he wants to read what everyone has said to him. He doesn't know that he wants to read all of their pitying words, how sorry they must feel for him.

That doesn't stop him, though, because part of him feels like he needs this. He can't see any of them in person, can't actually speak to them but this'll make it seem like they're talking to him, still communicating with him and he _needs_ that.

So he opens it, as slowly and as neatly as possible, and finds a card inside. It's homemade, by Lydia no doubt, and he wonders how she found the time to make it. Maybe she made it in advance, hoping that he would come back at some point. Maybe some part of her knew he wasn't dead.

She is a banshee, after all.

The card is way too pink, typical Lydia-style. There are detailed, intricate patterns all over the front, decorations that should mean nothing to him but still feel oddly personal, like they're meant for him and he finds himself oddly entranced by them, staring and tracing the lines with his finger. He stays like that for a while, just staring and tracing and staring and tracing until finally, _finally_ , he opens it.

There's writing _everywhere_. It's, like, full and Stiles can't actually focus on anything. There's clear distinction between the messages from different people though, and Stiles can see that one of them is clearly longer than the rest.

He'll leave that one for last.

Stiles decides to begin reading before he manages to convince himself not to. He starts in the top left, not bothering to check who it's from before reading.

 _Stiles, I know I haven't had the chance to see you yet, and I probably won't for a_  
_while (which I completely understand). But I want you to know that I love you,_  
_and I care about you, and we'll all wait as long as you need us to. And_  
_I promise to do all I can to make you feel better if it's in my power._  
_\- Lydia xxx_

Okay, Stiles is _not_ going to be able to deal with this. He's got barely any emotional control as it is, and he can feel his throat tightening already and he's only read one of them. Just like usual, Lydia is sweet and understanding, even though they're yet to see each other.

He misses _her_ , too. 

Stiles quickly moves on to the next one, knowing that if he doesn't, he'll just dwell on Lydia's message for hours. He reads who this one is from and, just his luck, it's Jackson. This isn't going to go well, Stiles just knows it - Jackson can't have anything good to say.

 _We both know I'm not one for all this sappy stuff. If I'm honest, Lydia forced_  
_me to write this. But seriously buddy, we miss you._  
_It's too quiet without you <\- and I never thought I'd say that_  
_\- J :)_

Okay, sure, it's nothing on the same level as Lydia's, but it means a lot, especially coming from Jackson. Jackson, who doesn't care about anybody other than himself and who _certainly_ doesn't care about Stiles, of all people. Jackson, who is an all-round asshole, who can be worse than _Derek_ at times.

And that's saying something.

But seriously, Jackson and Stiles are supposed to hate each other. They barely ever talk (hell, even if they do it's mostly arguing), and the only thing they have in common is how much they care for Lydia. Stiles may not be in love with her any more, but he spent the majority of his childhood pining over her and that sort of connection doesn't just go away overnight.

But that message from Jackson still means a lot. They're not close, probably never will be, but Jackson does still care (or, at least, as much as he _can_ care), and part of him still wants Stiles back, even after experiencing what were probably three months of heaven without him.

He's thinking too much, Stiles realises. Time to move on. This time, it's from Allison.

_I know we've never been the closest but we've always been friends, Stiles. And_   
_as your friend I want you to know that I miss you and it's not the same without you._   
_\- Allison_   
_P.S Please come back soon. Scott's being all mopey and he's sad like all of the_   
_time. It's not fun. Help!!!_

Stiles sniffles, smiling a little. He's not crying - _yet_ \- but there are tears prickling at the backs of his eyes. Of course Scott is struggling without him, they're the dream team; nothing without each other. A better love story than Scott and Allison.

He clenches a fist and takes a deep breath. He will _not_ cry. He is in control of his own emotions, he _is_. He can handle this.

Next one: Malia.

_I'm still not really used to this whole 'having a pack' thing, but I know that you_  
_and Scott mean more to me than anyone else in this pack. The thought of_  
_you hurting hurts me too Stiles, and I want you to get better but I also want Scott_  
_to be happy and I know that he's not. He pretends that he is but he's like_  
_a lost puppy without you. So don't focus on being able to be around the rest of us._  
_Focus on him because he needs you and I know that you need him just as much. You_  
_just don't see it._  
_\- Malia_

Why have they started talking about Scott all of a sudden? Stiles could deal with these messages right until they brought him into them. He _knows_ that he needs Scott - Scott's his best friend. But he can't handle being around Scott; the thought of going to see him terrifies him, but the thought of _not_ seeing him fills him with a dread that makes him feel sick.

He needs Scott, and he hates it.

There's no way Scott's as bad as Allison and Malia are saying, though. They must be exaggerating, trying to encourage him or make him feel better (which, admittedly, isn't working - it just makes him feel like crap). Scott's not weak, not like Stiles and sure, Stiles knows that Scott won't exactly be all laughs and smiles, but he's got to be handling this better than Stiles is. This is _Scott_ , who's had all of this shit thrown at him and who just doesn't complain. Surely a couple of months away from Stiles won't be the thing to change that.

Only one way to find out.

 _Hey, buddy! I'm gonna_ try _keep this short and sweet, don't worry._  
_Dude, I miss you. I mean we all do but I totally miss you the most!_  
_It's not the same without you, we need you back man. But take all the time_  
_you need, don't rush yourself, we need you at your best! Come back soon_  
_though dude, we're going crazy without you._  
_\- Love ya, Scotty x_

Okay, now Stiles is seconds away from bursting into tears. And _of course_ , Scott doesn't actually say anything about himself, about how _he's_ handling this. He's trying to cheer Stiles up, trying to keep the situation as lighthearted as he possibly can but, honestly, Stiles would really rather he'd opened up, actually said something about how he feels. Because Stiles feels like he hasn't spoken to Scott in _forever_ , a feeling he's never experienced, and Scott talking about his feelings about this could have changed that. If Scott had talked about how he's struggling - _if_ he's struggling - then Stiles might not feel so alone.

He wipes at a stray tear. There's only one left, the longest one by far, and it can only be from one person: Isaac.

 _Stiles. I'm not gonna lie, this probably won't be quick, and I'm not even_  
_sure what to say. This is weird, Stiles, really weird, and I don't like it. I missed_  
_you so much and now you're back but you're not really back cus you_  
_can't speak to any of us. We can't see you, we're your pack and we can't_  
_fucking see you, we're not allowed anywhere near you. And I don't blame you,_  
_not at all, but I don't like this. We couldn't even hold one conversation without_  
_you being terrified of me and that terrifies me, Stiles, because I don't know how_  
_long it'll take for you to even be able to be in the same room as one of us for more_  
_than a few minutes. I just miss the late nights where we'd spend hours just talking,_  
_and how you understand me_ like _no one else does. Our friendship is one of the most_  
_important things to me, okay? Remember that. And remember that I'm here for you. We're_  
_here for you, and we care about you._  
_We'll wait for you._  
_\- Love, Isaac._

Stiles barely has time to drop the card on the table before he's pulling his knees to his chest and there are sobs racking his body and he's shaking and crying into his arms that are folded across his knees. He can't hold it in any more. Fuck, it has to be Isaac who's the one that understands that Stiles doesn't need to be shielded in a note like this, doesn't need to be fed happy bites of information while being guarded against the truth. They've grown so close this past year and it's heartbreaking that all of that progress has been put on an indefinite hold because of something completely out of both of their control.

This isn't _fair_. Why does he have to be like this? He knows they won't hurt him, he _knows_ that, but he's still terrified to be around any of them even though they'd do anything to protect him. He knows barely anything about what happened to him and, sure, what he has remembered isn't exactly something he wants to think about, but it's not enough to make him scared of his own pack. There must be something else, something that happened that he _subconsciously_ remembers. Because he doesn't think he's scared _of_ them, he doesn't think he's scared that they'll hurt him, mostly because he just _knows_ that they won't.

So then why is he scared to be around them? And it's not even just them - it's his dad, too. Sure, he managed a very short conversation with his dad this morning, but his heart had been pounding so hard it had felt like it was trying to jump out of his mouth. That's his _dad_ , his own _family_ , and he can barely be alone in the same room as him.

That's just messed up.

"Stiles?"

Stiles looks to his right to see Derek standing a few feet away, staring at Stiles with a deep frown. He quickly wipes at his eyes with his sleeves but it's pointless - Derek has already seen the tears. He looks away from Derek, asking _what?_ in a weak yet aggressive voice.

Derek isn't fazed, though. "I heard you crying," he says, taking a slow step forward. "What's wrong?"

Stiles considers staying quiet, saying that nothing's wrong and telling Derek to just _go away_ , but he's broken down in front of Derek enough times to know that, at this point, Derek isn't going to judge him, that it'll be fine. So he shakes his head instead. "I hate this. Why am I like this?"

He's crying again even though he's trying not to - he's done enough crying today to last him a lifetime. He's surprised his body still has tears to produce. He tries to wipe at his eyes to stop the tears but they just keep coming, his breaths quickly turning into hiccups.

"Stiles, it's okay," Derek whispers, rushing closer and Stiles feels an arm snake around his waist, pulling him up against the warmth of Derek's chest. He stays curled up, knees still pulled to his chest, but he lets himself lean against Derek. "You're okay."

Stiles wants to argue; he's not okay. He's got some serious issues that he needs to fix but he doesn't know how. If Derek is with him, he won't let Stiles test his own boundaries - at the first sign of Stiles struggling, Derek will step in and make it better. But if Derek isn't there, Stiles knows he'll fall straight into a panic attack.

He still doesn't understand Derek's role in all of this. He's like a beacon of safety, practically _screams_ protection to Stiles. It's a sensation that Stiles has never experienced before, not with Scott, not with his dad, not with _anybody_ , and it feels like a promise to Stiles that Derek won't let anything bad happen to him. He loves it. It feels right, and he needs it.

He's pretty sure he zoned out because, when he turns to look at Derek, Derek's reading the card. He doesn't even get angry, just watches as Derek's eyebrows droop, eyes crinkling as he frowns and takes a deep breath. He seems to catch Stiles staring at him and he quickly tenses up, closing the card and dropping it back on the table. "Sorry," he says, smiling sheepishly. "I was curious."

Stiles nods slightly. "'S'okay," he mumbles, shrugging. "I don't mind."

Derek leans back, grip tightening around Stiles. "They miss you," he says. He glances down at Stiles but only sees the top of Stiles's head, feels as Stiles nods into his shoulder. "Do you think you might be able to see any of them soon? Even just one of them?" But even the suggestion has Stiles's heart pounding and Derek's quick to suggest otherwise. "You don't have to, Stiles, okay? Nobody is going to force you to do anything. But if ever you do want to see any of them, no matter the time, you let me know. Or let someone know, alright? It's up to you, Stiles. It's always going to be your choice."

Stiles continues to stay silent so Derek decides to stop talking. He's said enough about this and he thinks Stiles understands so he just pulls the boy as close as he can, wishing he could do something to protect him from his emotional pain, too.

"Did you read them?" Stiles asks, not yet looking up at Derek. "Did you read what they all said?"

Derek's brow furrows and he glances down at the top of Stiles's head. "Yeah, I did." His eyes narrow, confusion filling him. "Why?"

Stiles shrugs, pawing at his eyes. "I just... do you think they're, like- I don't know, walking on eggshells around me, or something? Like, I'd understand that they might be a bit unsure of what to say or something, you know?" He sighs quietly, shoulders dropping. "But nobody really _talked_ to me in those messages, except Isaac. It's like, they're telling me what they think I want to hear, but they're _wrong_." The room fills with an overwhelming sense of sadness and disappointment, and Derek's nose crinkles. "I want- I _need_ to know what's going on, if you know what I mean. I need to know how they're coping but they won't _talk_ to me. I need Scott to tell me what's going on inside of his head because... because then maybe I won't feel so alone."

Derek whines suddenly, and he'd probably blush if he wasn't so busy trying to bundle Stiles as tightly and securely into his arms as possible. Stiles feels alone. Derek is here but Stiles feels _alone_ and Derek can't fix it. He doesn't know how and it's making him want to scream in frustration because he doesn't know what to do.

"I need this to stop, I need it all to _stop_ , Derek." He lets out a small sob, making Derek's muscles tense. "I need my best friend back."

"Stiles..." Derek begins, but he doesn't know what to say. How is he supposed to help? There's nothing he can do to fix Stiles or make any of this better. He can't make Stiles feel any less alone.

He can't do anything.

Derek can't do anything except nuzzle his nose into the juncture between Stiles's neck and shoulder. It's calming for him, and he can only hope that it has the same effect on Stiles. He closes his eyes, listening intently to Stiles's gradually slowing heart rate, letting the calmness wash over him as he breathes deeply.

"I know it's hard," Derek says, voice muffled slightly. "But it won't always be like this, Stiles. It's going to get better."

"Oh, you can promise me that, can you?" Stiles's voice is harsh but Derek knows he isn't trying to be aggressive.

"No," he admits, inhaling again. Stiles seems to have relaxed beneath his nose. "But I _can_ promise that I will do everything I can to help you, and so will everyone else, okay? I won't give up on you just because it's going to be hard. And if I have anything to do with it, things _will_ get better." Derek feels Stiles's pulse flutter.

"I trust you," Stiles promises and Derek will _never_ get tired of hearing that. "You make me feel safe, you know? Safer than I've ever felt, Derek." Derek's heart swells and it takes everything in him to stop himself from purring with self-pride. "But you can't let me put this all on you. I still don't know why I turned up at _your_ house, and I really, _really_ appreciate everything you've done for me, but this isn't-"

" _Hey_ ," Derek interrupts. He turns Stiles's head so they can look at each other and stares into those caramel eyes. "Stiles, _stop_ it. You are _not_ a burden, you are _not_ a problem." He swallows thickly, continuing to stare intensely at Stiles while Stiles drops his gaze, avoiding eye contact. " _You_ are... Stiles, you're all that I care about right now. You're my priority, so don't you _dare_ try and belittle yourself, do you understand?" Derek's voice raises slightly and Stiles's eyes fly back up, wide and staring. Derek can't help but stroke his thumb softly across Stiles's cheek and Stiles's eyes flutter closed. "Just... _please_. I have to help you, Stiles. Not just because you happened to turn up at my door, but because I wouldn't be able to do anything else." He clears his throat to interrupt himself. If he doesn't stop talking now, he's going to spill everything about _mates_ and _love_ and a load of crap that Stiles just doesn't need right now. "I _want_ to help, alright?"

He doesn't give Stiles a chance to respond, rather pulls the boy back into his chest. Stiles's arms wrap around Derek's torso as he nuzzles his nose into Derek's shoulder and Derek rests his chin on top of Stiles's head.

"Thank you," Stiles whispers, breath shaky.

Derek just holds him, fingers dancing along Stiles's spine. He wants so desperately to press a kiss to the top of Stiles's head - or, preferably, his lips - but he's scared that would be a step too far. Instead, he rubs his cheek through the tufts of Stiles's hair, eyes falling closed as silence fills the room. Stiles's hair is so _soft_ , everything about Stiles is soft and that's why Derek loves him. He doesn't have a violent bone in his body until it comes to protecting his friends, and even then he doesn't want to hurt people. 

He's so gentle, so perfect, and Derek loves him so _god damn much_.


End file.
